


Secrets (and other misunderstandings)

by Xaori



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Age Difference, Bad Smut, Canon Compliant, Chris' hot Sailor costume doesn't mean he's gay, Drama & Romance, F/M, Guys talk, Humor, I'm Sorry, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Moira deserves a gun, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sex, She's 8 years older but who cares?, Smut, That stupid email, The other Nivanfield, What's that Cleon doing in my Nivanfield?, some fluff?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-03-09 13:37:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 87,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18918100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaori/pseuds/Xaori
Summary: A boy, a girl and all the things that happen when people don't talk to each other.





	1. Among men

**Author's Note:**

> I'd say Piers and Claire meet much ealier than they do in this story, but I don't care because it's my party and I'll cry if I want to... I mean... Aw, damn, I just need them to meet in 2012 LOL

**Among men**

It hadn't taken him very long to make her follow him into his apartment. Those eager, easy girls weren't really his type, but everything was good enough when all you wanted was to celebrate the return of your freedom. They hadn't done much talking, just a short chat to check if they were after the same conclusion of the night while they shared a drink before leaving together. Once in his apartment, they hadn't gotten very far either. He'd just lifted her up, nudged her panties aside and fucked her against the wall. It had been too long, too torturing since the last time he'd been with a girl —  _his_  girl in that case.

'Fuck Amy,' he thought while he fucked Kate, or Kelly, or…he couldn't recall her name, but since she was calling him Peter, it didn't really matter anyway.

He carried her into the bedroom and threw her onto the bed.

"Get on all fours," he said and she obeyed.

Once the skirt was hiked up and the panties pulled down, he knelt behind her and kept going. In and out, over and over. She screamed and moaned and dug her fingernails into the pillow as he grabbed her ass a little tighter.

"Oh, yes, Peter! Fuck me."

And he did.

He pushed her upper body down and lifted her hips. The angle was sharp, but she seemed to like it. Her moans got louder and she soon began to quiver as her hands reached for the headboard and her fingers curled around the frame. Two more thrusts and he was almost ready, too. He slowed down. She felt so good around him that he wanted it to last a little longer. He slid his hand over her butt and spanked her indelicately, the slap and pain of it ripping a cry from her lips and his own orgasm from his groin. His head fell back as he came, gasping her name — or similar.

She collapsed onto the mattress and laughed. Giving him a long, lashy look over her shoulder, she mewled.

"Kyra," she whispered. "It's Kyra."

He gasped and smirked as he pulled out of her and removed the condom.

"Piers, it's Piers."

They laughed together at how much they might have drunk as Kyra pulled her panties back up and lay down on his bed. Her long, dark mane fell in beautiful curls over her shoulders and framed that gorgeous face of hers.

"Mind if I stay?" she asked, rubbing her hand over the pillow. "This is so soft."

Piers quirked an eyebrow.

"Well," he said as he removed his shirt and jeans at the same time he put his boxers briefs back into place. "I just have to get up really early in the morning. You choose when you want to leave."

She smiled widely as her eyes fell shut.

"I think I'll take the  _early in the morning_. Your bed is comfy."

Piers snorted a little. "Are you sure? I have to leave at 5 am, which barely gives you time to sleep four hours."

The girl rolled her eyes and smirked before she sat up.

"You're kicking me out?"

Piers pouted. Was he? He wouldn't want to be rude to a girl, but he actually needed some time for himself before getting up in the morning. Before he could answer, Kyra understood. She got up and gave him a chiding glance.

"Don't worry, I'm already gone!" she walked past him into the living room and grabbed her shoes and purse. Pulling out a pen and a small paper, she noted down a number.

"Here. Give me a call if you ever want to repeat or so."

With a wink, she handed him the paper and turned on her heels. Piers, a little surprised, stood in the corridor and waved her goodbye before he brushed his teeth and went to bed.

The next day, Alpha Team would travel to Colombia, and he needed to be in best condition.

* * *

The sun was burning hot and Claire was starting to worry about not having brought enough sunscreen. A beginner's mistake and, to her and her creamy white skin, unforgivable. The coworker who was travelling with her —a long-haired, full-bearded Afro-American— probably wasn't making much use of such cosmetics. Lucky, she was paying Chris' station a visit that day. Maybe he had a tube left.

"What a nice place," Louis Jackson said ironically. The camp looked like it had been burst into pieces by a bomb. Even from outside the perimeter, the place smelled like gunmetal and testosterone.

Claire frowned.

"Well, let's see if I can find my brother."

She took several steps forward and greeted a young soldier, pulling out her ID Card in quite an aggressive manner. Due to her position in Terra Save, she often needed to show a harder side of herself, but typically felt bad afterwards. Deep inside, she wanted to be friends and share beer and pizza with everyone as if they were brothers and sisters without caring about the status difference, but those men were her brother's subordinates. Even here she was supposed to behave like the leader she was. The young man sucked in a breath and started stuttering at her as she halfheartedly muttered  _Redfield, Terra Save. Have an appointment with Captain Redfield_.

"Pl-please, c-come with me, m-ma'am."

She heard Chris' laughter echo from the inside of the tent they were led to. She'd recognize that voice from a hundred miles away. A smirk popped onto her lips when Chris stepped out, amusedly chatting with a younger man.

"I can relate. That guy is as useless as wet paper and if we keep on depending on his decisions, the B.S.A.A. will soon disappear." He smirked.

"Can't you do something about that, Captain?" The young man next to him gave him a serious gaze, one too serious for Claire's taste. "You are one of the founding members."

"But that doesn't mean he owns the company," Claire interrupted, smiling widely at her brother in one of those poses one figures themselves looking important. She probably wasn't. She was probably looking ridiculous. "Is it about Johnson again?"

Chris gave her a nod along with a wide smile and pulled her into a tight hug. Goodbye to the "high position" thing.

"Why do we see each other more often on the field than at home?" He asked her after letting her go.

"Because you are never home." She giggled. "Workaholic."

"Look who's talking!" Chris smiled at her and turned around to the young man next to him. "Claire, Lieutenant Piers Nivans, the best sniper I've ever met." He patted the man's shoulder. "Piers, this is Claire, my sister."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"I also have a master's degree in International Relations, I survived several outbreaks and abductions, and I manage my own department at Terra Save," she said, smiling as she offered her hand. "But, to him, my biggest success in life is being his little sister."

Piers smirked at her comment. Nice. He knew how to smile.

"That happens in the best families." He shook her hand. "My mother is completely oblivious to my military career and still tells everyone how I once built a sandcastle as big as myself when I was four."

They laughed as they kept shaking hands. Claire inspected the young soldier. He had a remarkably handsome face with dark eyes, full lips, and soft features. He wore the uniform as if he'd been poured into it and brandished the rifle on his back like some sort of trophy. ' _Not bad'_ , she thought as she wondered how old the young man was.

"Oh, please!" Chris laid his arm around her as he snickered. "I just show my sister around proudly."

Claire hit him in the ribs.

"Stop treating me like arm candy," she complained. "I'm here to save your ass, if you haven't forgotten!"

Because, really, that's what they had come for. The mission she had been sent to accomplish included extremely confidential negotiations with the B.S.A.A. about a warehouse in a nearby survivor camp the NGO was building, one that the B.S.A.A. could use as a strategic weapon storage for their upcoming expeditions through South America.

Chris nodded, smirking.

"Oh, right. Piers," he turned to the soldier on his right. "I'll be with Rodriguez and Terra Save. Please, go see if the team is ready for the next move."

Claire watched as Piers gave her one last smile before he turned away and she and Louis followed Chris into a different tent where they were introduced to the director of the South American branch of the B.S.A.A., Captain Mario Rodriguez.

"Miss Redfield, Mister Jackson," he greeted them with a strong Colombian accent. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is ours," Claire replied as she approached the captain. Mario was a huge man with a penetrating voice and contagious laughter. The upper buttons on his uniform had been left undone and showed a thick layer of chest hair that laid beneath. His handshake was strong and his eyes pierced into Claire's when she shook his hand.

"I have heard you have good news for us." Mario shoved a box of cigars over the table as he sat down. "Take one."

Louis gave her a shrug before he took one of the cigars and smelled it. Claire denied the offer with a grateful smile before she sat down at the table. Chris followed her.

"Well…" She spoke, clearing her throat.

Louis took a map out of his backpack and rolled it open, placing it onto the table in front. The map showed different marked points, spread over an extensive area.

"We have been thinking about your request to use our camp as a tactical base for your next move, Mister Rodriguez. The board of directors isn't against it, of course, as the B.S.A.A.'s interests match our own, but they are reluctant towards the possibility of the weapon storage, as you may imagine."

"They will change their mind if you agree with our conditions," Louis continued and Mario frowned.

"And what are those conditions?" Chris asked and turned to Mario, who was beginning to shift in his seat. "It's alright Rodriguez, Terra Save is on our side."

Claire cleared her throat as Mario gave Chris a disapproving look.

"You'll see. If we keep such a huge number of weapons in our camp, we request free access to them to guarantee the surveillance. We cannot allow you the requested closed space where only B.S.A.A. members will be able to access."

"Well, that makes sense to me," Chris added as he watched the plans. "As long as you guarantee that the weapons are still there when we come to get them."

Mario's look jumped from Claire to Chris to Jackson and back to Claire.

"Sure! It was clear that Mister Redfield would agree with his little sister, wasn't it?" He lifted himself from his seat and leaned onto the table, hitting is palms heavily onto the surface. "Your men are no soldiers, Miss Redfield," he said in a grating voice. "I cannot give my weapons to children."

Claire held his gaze. Although his worries were justified, Mario was being impertinent. Now was the right moment to show how much of a leader she was.

"Mister Rodriguez," Claire breathed. "Terra Save has extensively trained soldiers and experienced fighters who will be responsible for the supervision of your storage. You can trust that no one will misuse them in your absence, but we can't let you have part of our warehouse without knowing what exactly we have in it. I don't see where the problem is." Her look drove to Chris. "And Captain Redfield's reason to agree with us is not any personal relationship. He knows perfectly well that Terra Save needs the B.S.A.A. to succeed in this mission. Our camp in this area has just been enlarged to cover more needs and take in more survivors, but we're running out of resources."

As Claire stopped a moment to breathe, Louis continued the speech.

"If your suspicions are correct and there is someone preparing a new outbreak, we need you to stop this," he said. "And we will do everything to assure help."

Rodriguez's look went back to Claire, who was now smiling encouragingly.

"We can't face any more requests for a place in this camp. We're full." She pulled out some papers to sign. "You can count on Terra Save's cooperation here. Your team will have any resources and support they need, but we need to do this the right way...with transparency and trust."

Mario pulled the sheets closer and read them attentively as Chris and Claire exchanged short gazes. She chuckled a little as he winked at her. Things seemed to go well.

* * *

"So she's here?"

"Is she nice?"

"Did you speak to her?"

The B.S.A.A. soldiers Ben Airhart, Carl Alfonso, Andy Walker and Simon Tinman stood around their Lieutenant, fidgeting nervously as they bombed him with questions about the subject that had kept them awake for the previous nights.

"How much does she resemble Redfield?"

Piers rolled his eyes as he shoved his teammates away violently. It had been two days since their Captain had announced that his sister would be one of the Terra Save members that would be visiting them to discuss the conditions of their next cooperation and it had caused a general chaos among the soldiers, as they hadn't had the chance to meet the younger sister of the man that was guiding and training them so well. The surprise and excitement had been huge and their vivid imagination was playing around freely.

"I heard amazing stories about her."

"I heard she ran into Raccoon City like a Valkyrie to save Redfield's ass."

"I heard she once killed thirty zombies with her bare hands."

"I heard she looks like the captain in a skirt."

Piers grunted as that crazy idea was spoken out —  _again_. He himself had had a look at the younger Redfield about a year before, when Terra Save had been target of a terrorist attack, and Claire's report along with pictures of all the victims, including herself, had ended up on his desk. It had been a mere ID picture, but one thing was clear — Claire didn't look like her brother at all. The only feature the siblings shared was the eye color.

"Men, do you believe this is a proper way to speak about a relative of your captain?" He hissed into the round with a husky voice and caused the men to look up. After a short moment of silence, Simon and Carl burst into laughter.

"Man, Nivans! Always so serious!" Simon rammed his elbow into Piers' side. "This has nothing to do with our respect for the Captain! We just have been here for a week and there's nothing to do. We need some entertainment."

"You have been here for five days and, if you want to keep yourself busy, you can…" Piers' threat was interrupted by the voice of Andy Walker.

"Holy shit."

Piers could see the blood drain from all his teammates' faces when he heard Chris' voice behind him and turned. Their captain was walking into the tent they used as a dining room and kitchen, closely followed by the two Terra Save members.

"This is the last move we need to make," Chris said. "When do you think we will be able to access your camp?"

"Once the papers are signed and returned to Terra Save, you'll find the doors open within twenty-four hours. It will be quick and your director Johnson doesn't even have to learn about it." Claire winked at him before she turned to the young soldiers in front and smiled. Her look waved through the round as she waited for Chris to introduce her. How quiet everyone was all of a sudden. Piers chuckled. The redhead had all attention drawn to her.

"Men," Chris stood between the Terra Save members and his subordinates. "I am proud to introduce you to Louis Jackson and Claire Redfield from Terra Save. As you well know, we will count on their help for our next operation."

He quirked an eyebrow as he looked at Claire, who chuckled softly. He hadn't introduced her as his little sister this time. He was learning. Louis was the first one to shake the soldiers' hands, but all their eyes were stuck on Claire, who just smiled at the sudden wave of attention.

"Miss Redfield," Carl Alfonso said as they shook hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yes," Ben Airhart added. "We have heard so much about our captain's brave sister."

"Only good things, of course!" Simon said in a hurry.

Claire laughed.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear," she replied, chuckling.

"Why don't you and Mister Jackson stay with us for lunch?" Simon offered. "Our canned food is surely not as good as you're used to, but it's still food and I'm sure you have a long ride back to your camp or hotel."

Claire gave her coworker a short glance and Louis shrugged his shoulders.

"You know me, Claire. I never say no to a meal."

And so, the two Terra Save members followed the B.S.A.A. soldiers into their makeshift canteen, where they shared some of the MREs they had taken with them. All the guys were looking shyly at Claire, following her moves thoroughly, and Piers couldn't hold back a tiny smirk as he saw their interactions. Just some minutes before his teammates had been making all kinds of bets about which sibling would have more chest hair and now they were barely able to speak a word. No wonder, though — Claire was actually a stunningly beautiful woman. The red hair gave her a fierily exotic semblance and the tiny freckles on her white nose and cheeks made her look young and innocent. However, her stinging looks through bright eyes and sharp tongue conveyed a rough smartness that made her the most interesting female he had ever come across.

Also, he was enjoying how tiny and shy his teammates had become in her presence, almost choking on the mean words they had been spitting out before. He could swear he'd seen Andy Walker blush in front of the redhead. Claire had noticed, too, but being professional as she was, she didn't let that change anything about her attitude towards the men. She asked them about their work and praised them for the good job they were doing and the men seemed to relax. Apparently, Claire had just proven that being Chris Redfield's hot sister wasn't incompatible with being a lovely human being.

Piers watched the scene from a safe distance and analyzed how the two Redfields interacted with each other. Even though the siblings were very different on the outside, they had the same open, kind character. Claire didn't fear sharing stories about her past experiences in bioterrorism and had the soldiers' complete attention.

"So, you know Leon Kennedy?" Ben asked with interest and Claire threw an amused glance at her brother, who was grinding his teeth. "I heard he once killed a hundred Hunters just by running them over."

"Yeah," the redhead laughed, narrowing her eyes. "He's always been a horrible driver." She probably thought she had talked enough and put a hand onto Louis Jackson's shoulder. "Did you know that Louis once saved the president? They were stuck together in the same terminal when an outbreak happened."

Louis lifted his hands and shook them.

"He wasn't yet president back then," he added before the B.S.A.A. soldiers regrouped around him to listen to his stories. Claire used the break to get up. "Actually, it was long before we joined the active fight against bioterrorism in our fields. We were on the same plane and landed when the airport in Istanbul was already overrun with zombies."

Chris turned to Piers and laughed, receiving just a friendly nod from his second-in-command. The captain was having a great time after the successful negotiations with Mario. It was time they got some good news as everything they touched lately seemed to run out of control. Just two months had passed since Chris and he had come back from their mission in South East Asia. The outbreak in Marwaha school had caused important losses among their own rows. Merah, for instance. Piers lifted his glass as the young woman came to his mind. He had known Merah Biji before they had reunited in Marwaha, and there had always been some weird attraction between them. Hadn't he been with Amy, he and Merah would have surely become something more than just soldiers on the same side. Now, Merah was dead and Amy was gone and he had lost his chance to be happy with either of them.

"So, Lieutenant Nivans," Claire's golden voice pulled him out of his thoughts as she dropped onto the bench next to him. "Why don't you sit with the others?"

He cleared his throat, still a little shocked by the sudden presence next to him.

"Well," he said. "I am a sniper. I like attacking from a safe distance."

She laughed, and Piers found out that Claire Redfield was truly gorgeous when she laughed. Her blue eyes sparkled in the dim light of the tent as she slowly caught her breath again and reached for the drink she had just left on the table in front of her.

"The best sniper in the world," she repeated her brother's words. "That's a huge compliment, especially when it comes from Chris Redfield."

"I know that, ma'am." He smirked widely. "I am very proud of working under his command. I mean, just as all of us." He pointed at the next table where Louis Jackson was currently explaining how he and Adam Benford had dashed together through an infested airport terminal in Turkey around the year 2005. Claire's eyes lit up as she smiled.

"Trust me, Nivans," she suddenly said and put her hand onto his. It was soft and felt warm on his skin. "He is proud of working with you, too. He was a little reluctant to the idea of leading his own team. I don't think he has worked on a large unit since he was in S.T.A.R.S. and he didn't feel ready for it, especially after the losses they had in Kijuju some years ago. But I can sense that you're all functioning very well together," Claire proceeded. "And I think he owes a lot of this stability to your presence here. Thank you, Nivans."

Piers' head dropped, hiding that he almost blushed. He always tried to do his best in his job and it had been a big honor to be named Captain Redfield's second-in-command. He would have done it for any other captain too, as it lay in his nature, but working under Chris was more than just work. He treated them like family and they had all learned a lot from him and his experience.

"No need to thank me, Miss Redfield. Your brother helped me get over a severe identity crisis," he said laughing. "I used to be with the US Army's Special Forces, but I had gotten to the point where I found I needed new challenges and…well, there was your brother. When he asked me to join the B.S.A.A., I didn't hesitate one second." He looked back at Claire, who was smiling brightly at him. "What about you? How is it to be Chris Redfield's little sister?"

She stopped smiling and blew out a breath as her look dropped to her watch.

"Okay, we don't have time for the long version, so I'll give you the short one." She cleared her throat and took a sip of her water. "I'm alive and I probably owe it to him."

Piers frowned at the redhead and she laughed again. "Chris raised me when our parents died. He was there to show me that, no matter how bad things get, life goes on, until someday it doesn't. He taught me that there was a right time for everything — for grieving, for being happy, and for fighting for your life. He also taught me everything I know about guns when I was a teenager. That all made me survive Raccoon City and all later outbreaks." Piers lifted his eyebrows as Claire shrugged her shoulders. "He's awful with birthdates, but he is the best brother I could wish for."

Piers was about to reply when Ben came running towards their table like a little child and leaned onto the surface right in front of Claire.

"Claire!" he yelled before he thought what he was doing. "I mean, Miss Redfield. Louis says you killed Alex Wesker. Mind sharing that story with us?"

Before Claire could reply, Piers threw an angry glance at Ben.

"Airhart, you're losing your manners!"

Ben looked at him in shock and his face turned pale when he turned back to Claire, stuttering an apology. However, the redhead just laughed and stroked Piers' hand again, sending a shiver through his body.

"It's okay," she said and got up before turning to Ben. "No need to call me Miss Redfield. I'm Claire. You probably know the story about Chris killing Albert Wesker, don't you?" They walked to the other table together. "Well, my story isn't as spectacular as his, but that's probably because he always exaggerates his stories."

Piers smirked, rolling his eyes as he watched them walk away until his look crossed Chris'. His captain gave him a short shrug and laughed. He was probably used to his sister's natural skill to captivate everyone around her, especially when the ones around her were men in their twenties. No wonder she kept being the main topic of their talks long after her departure.

"Please, guys, be quiet for a while," Carl growled as they went to bed that night. "I'll be thinking about Claire, if you know what I mean."

"Alfonso, you cock muppet! Can't you wait to jerk off until we're all asleep?" Andy yelped. "Also, would you please stop contaminating my vision of Miss Redfield sucking my cock with your ugly face in it?"

Laughter.

"You mean the vision of Miss Redfield searching for your tiny dick with a lens?" Simon was the last one to speak before Piers decided who to throw his pillow at.

Just to clarify, Piers Nivans didn't sleep on a normal pillow. No matter how soft and smooth his bed back home was, while on the field, his head and neck rested on a little bag of seeds; a luxury article that helped him sleep as much as it helped him wake up. And so, it came that two pounds of dry, hot and already sweaty seeds and cherry pits hit Andy Walker right in the face.

"Ouch! Fuck, Nivans!"

Piers jumped out of his bunk to recover his pillow.

"Can't you just shut the fuck up?" He hissed as he walked through the tent. "You should rest now if you don't want to look like zombies tomorrow and risk getting shot by your teammates. Tomorrow we need to move the weaponry to the Terra Save camp, don't forget that." He grabbed the pillow from Andy's hands and turned back to his bed. "Also, you better hope the captain hasn't heard your disrespectful comments. Or would you like to hear someone talk shit about  _your_  little sister?"

Ben sighed.

"Of course not, Lieutenant."

Carl and Andy looked away, ashamed. Only Simon kept talking.

"Come on, Piers," he whispered in the dark. "We all respect the captain as much as you do and you know that we would never treat his sister with disrespect. But, in our defense, she is the hottest thing we have seen in days; weeks, for some of us. There's nothing bad about fantasizing."

Now Andy spoke again.

"Yes, also, Claire looks like one of those women who'd even find it amusing to know that they're the object of our fantasies," he said, laughing, and Piers nearly threw his pillow again. "And not all of us have a cute girlfriend like you. Come on, just let us dream a bit."

Piers layed down. That cute girlfriend Andy referred to was Amy, but, of course, the young soldier had no idea that Amy wasn't his girlfriend anymore. Amy Junker and he had been together for four years and they had even talked about marriage before she'd discovered that she didn't want to continue living her life next to a B.S.A.A. soldier. He hadn't seen her since Christmas, when she'd decided she would stay at her parents' home  _ad infinitum_ , and they hadn't spoken until May, when she'd called to notify him that she wasn't coming back. ' _Not back'_  didn't mean not back to New York, but not back to him. He wasn't really upset about losing Amy after all, but the fact that his hypothetical relationship with her hadn't let him be a little more open to Merah bothered him.

He'd told Amy to come while he was in Colombia to get her stuff from his apartment and leave her key with Mrs. Wilson, his neighbor. The old lady had given him a hug and a cookie when he'd told her that the skinny brunette, who she'd called Amy, wouldn't be around much longer.

"Nivans," Ben called out for him. "Do you think Claire will be there when we get to the camp?"

Piers just replied with an impatient huff. Just because he was single again didn't mean he had to follow the childish behavior of his teammates...

No matter how hot Claire must look in her underwear.


	2. The email

 

The apartment had never felt so empty. He hadn't known how much of Amy's stuff had been in his life until he saw the back wall of his wardrobe for the first time in years. He himself barely needed space in it. His living and dining room sent back a frightening echo as well once the girl had removed all her candles and photographs from his shelves and walls. The box with the stuff he'd had in her apartment wasn't even full. A couple of t-shirts, underwear, an unused toothbrush in its blister and a bottle of his shampoo were everything he'd ever left at her place. Piers began to understand why Amy had said she felt like he didn't want to commit, but, in his defense, he hadn't much more stuff in his own apartment either.

He dropped his bag carelessly onto the ground of the hall and walked into the kitchen. The refrigerator offered him nothing but beer, an already wrinkled lemon and a ketchup packet. That was far from an ideal welcoming. The emptiness in his kitchen and cabinets had nothing to do with Amy's departure, admittedly. He had always been practical when it came to grocery shopping as he never knew when and for how long he would be home. Piers grabbed a can and walked back into the living room, pondering what kind of food he should celebrate his new, official freedom with. Standing in front of his balcony in the moonlight, he opened the can and took a long, refreshing sip, letting his mind flow from one ephemeral thought to the next.

The doorbell rang the silence away. Piers turned around and sat the beer onto the table next to his couch before switching on the lights and walking to the door. The peephole revealed the visitor's identity, blowing a short smirk onto his face.

"Good evening, Mrs. Wilson." He greeted his neighbor as he opened the door.

"How many times did I tell you to call me Beth?" Mrs. Wilson was in her fluffy white cotton robe, holding a large tray with delicious-smelling meatballs in her hands. It made Piers' mouth water. "I heard you were back, kid, and I thought I bring you some of my leftovers. You always look like you're starving."

Piers opened the door a little wider and smirked.

"You know me too well, Beth. Mind joining me?"

The old lady nodded in agreeance and teetered past him, directly into the kitchen.

"That's very nice of you, Piers, thank you. I have brought that skinny girl's keys too." She put the tray onto the counter and turned to him. "I mean,  _your_  keys." After pushing her shaking hand into the pocket of her robe, Mrs. Wilson pulled out a set of keys and left it next to the tray on the counter. Piers chuckled.

"Thank you, I hope she didn't catch you sleeping."

Amy was a nurse and worked crazy shifts sometimes, so the chances she'd come either early in the morning or late at night were better than good. Luckily, Mrs. Wilson shook her head.

"Oh, no. She came in the afternoon," she said, smiling as she put the meatballs onto two plates. "I'm so sorry you two broke up. You were a beautiful couple."

Piers couldn't hold back the indignant laughter that burst out.

"Please! You always complained about her," he replied as he opened the refrigerator. "I can only offer you beer, I'm sorry."

Beth pressed her lips together as she thought.

"I'll take a beer, then. And I was just saying that you looked good together. You also look good in your uniform, young man, but that doesn't mean I like that you wear it."

Piers threw a warm look at the older lady, who proceeded to warm up the food in the microwave. Beth, as most other people, only knew he was a soldier, oblivious to the fact that they weren't fighting human enemies. And, even if she had known, she wouldn't have approved. Beth was a peace-loving being and even though she understood that there were good people who tried to protect others from the bad guys, she hated both sides equally.

They had dinner together in Piers' dining room while Beth gave him an extensive update about the latest happenings in their block.

"Mrs. Mayer from the second floor is having her bathroom refurbished these days, so don't go to bed too late. They start working early in the morning and the noise won't let you sleep during the day." She had served herself only one of her meatballs, leaving the rest to Piers. Watching the healthy appetite the young man devoured the three balls of the size of tennis-balls with, she happily sipped her beer. "What else? Oh, yes! The young lady from the floor above has kicked her boyfriend out. Maybe you should go and talk to her."

Chewing, Piers rolled his eyes.

"Why would I do that? If she's just getting over a breakup, it's better to leave her alone."

"I am just saying that you can pay her a visit someday. She seems to be nice and you're both single now. You never know where the love of your life will be waiting for you."

Piers chuckled. As if things were that easy.

"It's not what I am currently looking for anyway," he added, slicing his way through another juicy meatballs.

"I see, yes," Beth said nodding. "I haven't asked you. How do you feel about Amy?"

Piers took a deep breath and shrugged. He himself wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about Amy. Angry? Disappointed? Or just happy that the uncertainty was finally over?

"Well," he said. "I guess she just didn't understand my job."

Beth nodded in annoyed acceptance, certainly aware that he hadn't answered her question.

"Not everyone can be with a soldier," she said and lifted her beer. Piers frowned.

"It's not just what I do for a living," he added. "It's all the consequences. The shifts, the travels, the fact that I can't make plans much more ahead than the next weekend. Not everybody is willing to accept this."

"So, you need someone from your same line of work," Beth said and almost made him chuckle. "Aren't there any women in your job?"

Piers nodded, laughing.

"Yes," he huffed. "Of course there are women."

Merah had been a woman and a talented B.S.A.A. soldier. Jill Valentine was one of the founding members of their organization. Rebecca Chambers, even though she was just an advisor to the B.S.A.A., was also working for the same cause. And Claire…

Age seemed to make people wiser and more observative. Beth caught the traitorous smile that popped onto his lips almost instantly. Her narrowed eyes began to twinkle.

"Seems like there is someone you have in mind."

Piers licked over his teeth and snickered. Pushing his empty plate away and folding his hands on the table he gave his neighbor a dark, resolute smile.

"It's nothing. We just met our captain's sister on this past mission and my teammates were all going crazy over her." He laughed but Beth just kept staring at him, obviously amused.

"You too?"

His laughter rolled loudly through the dining room. Where had Beth taken those bizarre thoughts from?

"Of course not, Beth. She's my captain's sister. That would be very unprofessional."

Mrs. Wilson kept smiling as she stood up and removed the empty plates, carrying them into the kitchen. "I'm just saying that…" she muttered as she walked away. Piers tried to listen to the fading words.

"Sorry?" He frowned as he kept trying to understand what the old lady was telling him, but there was just silence until she came back from the kitchen.

"Oh, son, I'm just saying that life is too short to be professional all the time." She stroked his cheek almost motherly, leaving him alone at the table as she turned to the door. "I better get going, it's late already." Beth said as she walked away. "Thank you for the beer."

"Thank you for the meatballs," Piers said as he got up and followed her to the door. "Don't talk to strangers on your way home."

Piers waited in the door for the lady to reach her apartment on the other side of the hall before locking his door and walking back into the living room. Beth's words didn't let go of him. Life was short, huh? Admittedly, it was hard to tell which day would be your last if you were a B.S.A.A. soldier. He thought a while as his look drove to the commode next to the TV, where he'd kept Kyra's number before leaving for Colombia. Maybe it was time to make some calls.

* * *

"You look like you had sex last night!" Moira exclaimed as she watched Claire walk through the reception hall. The redhead furrowed a brow as she stared back at her friend and all the colleagues who had overheard young Burton's suspicions.

"If you keep telling me that every morning, the day I will have actually had sex people won't believe it," Claire replied in a low voice as she pushed the elevator button. "Also, trust me, the fucking begins now." She chuckled at the face of disgust Moira was making. "I see the board of directors this morning. I think it's because B.S.A.A. Director Johnson requested an explanation why he hasn't been informed about the warehouse in Colombia."

"What?" Moira yelled in irritation. "But why did we need to inform him about that? Colombia is territory of the South American Branch."

"It is!" Claire tilted her head and shrugged a shoulder as she waited for the elevator doors to open. "But Barry has surely told you about Johnson's obsession to control everything. He complained to the directors."

Moira's eyes widened.

"Didn't they know that Johnson hadn't been informed?" She yelped, at which Claire shrugged.

"Of course they knew. But admitting that would apparently affect the good relations they have with the B.S.A.A., so they need someone to blame." The elevator arrived and Claire and Moira walked inside. "The day the B.S.A.A. gets a new director, I will throw a party."

Moira laughed, launching an interested glance at her red-haired friend.

"I hope you invite your brother's men if you do so."

Claire couldn't stop her eyes from rolling at Moira's comment. Three weeks had passed since she had visited her brother's unit in Colombia and Moira had somehow discovered that Captain Redfield's Alpha Team was full of young men in their twenties.

"And I thought I was the one who needed sex urgently," Claire observed laughing as she watched the numbers on the elevator panel flash up.

"Barry will be in headquarters this afternoon," the younger woman mumbled to herself, eyes narrowed, as the elevator came to stop and the doors slid open. "Maybe it's time to pay my father a visit."

"Don't make it too evident that he's not the one you want to see."

Claire shook her head as she left the elevator and walked towards the room where the directors were awaiting her. Before she reached the door, she looked back at Moira, who was turning her thumbs up.

"You'll do great, Claire!"

Claire sent her friend another weak smile before watching her disappear into the Operations office. She turned to the door in front of her and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her nerves. She wished she could believe Moira's words and that everything would be fine, but the real problem was the internal struggles of the B.S.A.A. And that wasn't a problem she could solve. She knocked on the door and waited for a response. He didn't own the organization, but there had to be something Chris could do about that loser of a director they had.

"Come in," a voice from the inside commanded and Claire opened the door.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

Claire watched the round of six men in dark suits that sat around a large table and who looked amusedly displeased at the redhead. After Neil's treason, Terra Save had decided not to leave the leadership in the hands of one single man ever again.

"Miss Redfield," Mr. Grey, a blond man in his late forties, with a long, pointy nose and glasses on it, spoke up and pointed at the empty chair in front of them. "Please, have a seat."

Claire nodded in restrained gratefulness and sat at the table.

"I'm sure, Miss Redfield," the man proceeded as the colleague to his right took up a paper sheet, "that you know why you are here."

Another nod followed a silent sigh.

"I heard that the B.S.A.A. North American Branch has presented complaints about our deal with Mario Rodriguez' men to offer them the spare space in survivor camp S-52486-LATAM, which they requested as a warehouse for their weapons."

The third man from the left lowered his glance and wrote something onto the papers in front of him. He hummed affirmingly as the speaker cleared his throat.

"We know, Miss Redfield, that you had the best intentions for S-52486-LATAM."

Her burning look shot to the man in front as she ground her teeth. That was going too far.

"Best intentions?" She shook her head resolutely. "Sir, I don't think this is the right word. The procedure was a complete success as the B.S.A.A. teams were able to bring down the terror group they were after thanks to the strategic storage we offered. I understand that Director Johnson would have wanted to be informed about the mission the North American Alpha team was going on, but I think we agree that this was none of Terra Save's responsibilities as we had all needed talks with the South American branch." She took a second to breathe and continued. "And if Director Johnson doesn't want to understand that, someone will have to explain it to him!"

The men in front of her smiled; all six of them. Claire swallowed. Apparently, they found her words amusing.

"Miss Redfield. I think you understand where we are taking this."

* * *

Piers stopped in front of Chris' door and gave it a loud knock with his knuckles. Only four days had passed since Alpha team had come back from their mission in Colombia with the South American branch, but they were already getting ready for a new mission and Chris had called for his second in command to discuss the upcoming trip to Canada.

"Come in, Piers."

He found the captain sitting at his desk, bent over a paper. His expression showed he wasn't particularly happy about the content.

"Captain?" Piers approached the desk and tried to glimpse onto the sheet. "Is everything okay?"

Chris furrowed a brow as he gave Piers a dark look from below and turned the paper to him. It was a notification from director Johnson.

"The director himself writes to you? What an honor," the younger man joked with a chuckle. However, his expression changed into astonishment as he read through the lines. "He blames Terra Save for their cooperation?"

Chris huffed as he shrugged in displeasure.

"I just hope I haven't gotten Claire into trouble." He sighed. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Piers knew what Chris was talking about. Claire herself had told them the story about how she had driven into an infested Raccoon City searching for her brother, who had left the country without telling her he wouldn't be available for a while. The stories and rumors about it were as numerous as they were famous. However, this was a different situation. The operation Johnson was complaining about had been led by the South American branch and had, officially, nothing to do with their own team. As Piers shook his head in disbelief, Chris pulled out his phone.

"Damnit! It's off." Throwing the device away, he opened the first drawer. "If you give me a minute, I just want to check quickly how things are going on Terra Save's side." He found a small business card with the Terra Save logo on its back and pulled the office phone on his desk closer. Shortly after dialing, he activated the loudspeaker, so he had his hands free to inspect the papers on his desk. Someone answered.

"Redfield."

"Claire, it's me."

Piers leaned forward as he heard the sweet voice of the younger Redfield. She didn't sound angry or stressed. Maybe she didn't know yet about how much of an ass their director was.

"Chris! What a surprise. How come you call me at the office?"

"Low battery," he replied and chuckled. "Look, I just got a concerning notification from Johnson and wanted to ask if you're alright."

"Yeah," she replied, sighing. "They want me to write a report saying that we had to act quickly to justify that we couldn't waste time informing non-implied branches. Our deal was with Rodriguez and your Alpha team just happened to be around. Bad luck!" She giggled shortly. "At least, I won't have to meet with him."

"I'm so sorry," Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's okay, Chris. I can handle this, but I give you five bucks if you get that guy fired." Her laughter filled the line and made Chris smile eventually.

"So generous? Have you won the lottery or something? I think your last Christmas present to me was cheaper than that." They exchanged more laughter until Chris turned more serious. "You need any help?"

"You mean with the report writing? Are you kidding? Remember that Barry told me my report on  _Sushi_  was the best he'd ever read?"

Piers frowned.

"Report on Sushi?" he asked in a whisper and Chris chuckled, writing something onto a paper and sliding it over the desk. It said  _Sushestvovanie Island_. Right. Claire and Barry Burton's kid had been kidnapped and brought to that island the year before. Piers nearly burst into indecent and unprofessional laughter. Claire had an interesting sense of humor. Chris chuckled.

"Okay, okay. You know I'm just worried about you. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

Piers didn't doubt it. Smaller administrative issues were no trouble for a resolutive Redfield, it seemed.

"I am. Don't you worry big brother. What's next for you?" Claire's voice sounded a little concerned as she asked her brother about his next move. Chris cleared his throat.

"We'll be leaving again soon. Canada this time. I'll be right around the corner."

Piers watched his captain as he spoke to his sister. Something shimmered in Chris' eyes when he heard how worried Claire seemed to be.

"Well,  _not far_  doesn't mean  _not dangerous_ ," Claire snickered. "Tell Piers to take care of you, okay?"

His eyes snapped up in surprise when he heard his name, fighting down the gratified smirk that was threatening to crawl onto his face. Claire Redfield remembered him. The Captain chuckled amusedly at his reaction, and Piers just hoped he wasn't having the same thoughts Beth had expressed the other night.

"I will. Take care, Claire bear."

"Don't call me that. I love you."

"I love you, too." With those words, Chris ended the call and smirked at his second-in-command. "So, looks like she'll be alright. I'll buy her dinner someday to make it up to her. Let's discuss the trip now."

Piers nodded in acceptance. They still had a lot to prepare for the next mission near to Vancouver.

"Yes, sir."

After flicking through some papers, Chris got up.

"Excuse me a second. Jill wanted to hand me in some more reports on the person we are after." He quickly walked to the door and headed down the hallway towards Jill Valentine's office. Piers stayed behind, eventually allowing himself to smile amusedly at the recent phone call. Claire Redfield not only remembered his name; she also trusted him to take care of her brother. What a nice and attentive woman she was. Looking around the office, Piers saw that Chris had left his sister's business card on his desk — face up.

The card stared at him indiscreetly, with those big blue letters saying  _Claire Redfield_  and her email address below.

"C dot Redfield," he whispered. "Terra dash Save dot org."

Maybe he could write her an email someday and thank her for her visit and how kindly she'd treated the boys, not letting their childish behavior distract her in any way. Even weeks after their meeting, the guys were still talking about her visit. Piers sighed inwardly. He kept lecturing them on the importance of respect and obedience, but they wouldn't listen, still enchanted by the beautiful redhead. And who could blame them? Claire was, probably, the most complete package of a woman they'd ever gotten to know. She was beautiful, smart and had a heart made of gold. He chuckled. Perhaps she would accept to meet him again someday, far away from work, if possible. That tiny thought was enough for his mind to trick him with images of a dimly lit bedroom and the smell of lube, causing him to blush at his own stupid fantasy. When had he become so infantile?

The sound of the door startled him. Chris came back in and sat at the desk, facing the young lieutenant. Piers cleared his throat and forced himself into an upright position, focusing on work after having been caught with his head in the clouds.

"Alright, let's get this done."

* * *

From behind half-closed eyes, he watched Kyra pull up the straps of her bra. The brunette looked ravishing in the shadows of the room with her perfect back covered in taut, sun-kissed skin and a tribal sign resting like a guardian on her right shoulder blade. It looked good on her, but Piers had concluded that he neither knew nor cared what it could possibly stand for. Kyra bent down and allowed him a generous glance of her tiny little butt, making him smirk at the view. She was collecting his shirt from the ground and pulled it over her head. Admittedly, it looked much better on her than on himself.

"Oh!" The brunette exclaimed when a notification made her phone vibrate on the nightstand. "Oh, I can't believe it. Charlie will be in Manhattan tonight."

Piers pouted.

"Who?"

Kyra smirked at him in excitement.

"Perry Charles." She explained, gesturing exaggeratedly. "The most promising new fashion designer of the country." She started jumping like a little child that was about to go to the amusement park. "He's giving a show tonight. Do you want to come with me?"

His mouth dropped open. Wouldn't he rather rip his own arm off?

"Sorry," he said head-shaking. "Even if I wanted, I couldn't. I still have work to do."

Kyra sighed as her shoulders dropped in disappointment.

"It's okay," she said, ignoring the excessive sincerity in his words, and began removing his clothes again. They exchanged short glances as the girl got dressed in silence and eventually sat back on the bed. "But, if I am allowed to say this...I think you work too much."

No, she wasn't allowed. She wasn't fucking allowed to complain about anything, as he and Kyra had met only a couple of times since their first night. It was nothing more than a few drinks and quick sex either in his or her place and an early goodbye once the sweat had dried. Nothing committing, and even so, the girl began to nag about his job.

In her defense, Kyra didn't know how important his job really was. Nor did she know that his crazy schedules were just one reason for his evasive demeanor. It wasn't like he didn't like Kyra. There was no straight man in the whole world who would not like Kyra. She was fiery and funny. She could drink like a pirate and she gave very intense blowjobs. But, despite all of her wonderful traits, Kyra was probably the shallowest human being on Earth and Piers had absolutely nothing in common with her. The girl hated watching the news and wasn't interested in politics. Kyra was into fashion and beauty recipes. She spent her mornings in the gym and posted a couple of selfies of every work-out session on her social media profiles. She ordered her fries with diet mayonnaise and she never, ever ate desserts. The sex was good, but it wasn't enough to betray himself and all his ideals by attending a fashion show in Manhattan.

"You know it's complicated," he whispered apologetically, trying to hide how displeased he really was.

She shrugged.

"Yeah, I know." The long mane was pulled out of the blouse and left curling over her shoulders. "Well then. I call you tomorrow."

The tiny kiss she placed onto his lips before she left his bedroom made Piers consider not taking her call ever again. It was impossible for him to commit to someone like Kyra, as Amy had been troublesome enough. Amy, at least, had been a very stimulating companion outside the bedroom, too.

Once he heard the door fall shut, he got up and walked into the kitchen, guided by his rumbling stomach. Luckily, Beth had brought him some more leftovers a little earlier, making him wonder what he would do without the older lady. She had taken care of him like a mother ever since he'd moved to that building, and Piers suspected she saw in him the son she'd never had. He overheated a piece of lasagna in the microwave, burning his fingertips up to a point where his chances to get caught for future crimes descended to zero.

"Ouch."

With a full plate and a beer, he walked back into the living room. On the table in front of the couch sat his laptop, as quiet as usual. He flipped open the device and the blue start screen stared at him defiantly. His job was following him everywhere.

Two clicks later and the email was open, two bold subject titles showing him the unread messages-one from Chris contained the planning for their upcoming trip and the other from the PR department to announce the annual B.S.A.A. meeting in the European headquarters. He, as first lieutenant of the North American Branch, was expected to attend together with his captain.

But that was everything. No more work to do that night except for the packing. Great! He'd finally have some free time and could check the boring late-night-TV program, or he could work out a bit. He could even go out and have a drink. Maybe one of the boys had the same idea. Piers chuckled. Before he could follow any of those plans, his fingers ran the mouse almost automatically to the New Message button. There was that one thing he really wanted to do.

"To C dot Redfield…"

* * *

It was almost ten when she got home. Kicking the door open like a warrior, Claire threw her shoes into the closest corner of her apartment, sending them off with a deep sigh of relief. The day had given her nothing but crap and she was just glad she had gotten home without killing anyone and that she could shut herself away from more annoying social interactions. After she'd finished the completely unnecessary report for that B.S.A.A. director, she'd been informed that Audrey Jefferson had decided she wanted to settle down and have children instead of working for Terra Save. What a selfish bitch.

Claire and Audrey had never gotten along well, but the redhead had to admit that the older woman had been very good in her position and her departure was an important loss to Terra Save. On top of that, Claire had been given the job to find a new head for the PR Department. She hadn't been in PR since her second year in the organization and was actually not qualified for the task, but the directors seemed to consider it part of her punishment. Terra Save's policy preferred promoting someone from among the employees, but Audrey had kept all of her team away from important decisions and procedures, making sure that no one of them would ever be able to take her place.

Anyway, Human Resources wouldn't send her a list of possible candidates until the following morning, so she decided she would have pizza for dinner and watch one of those bad action films Chris loved so much. At least then she wouldn't have to think much and could doze off without missing anything important. Claire grabbed her laptop, the pizza box and her phone and proceeded to assemble a makeshift home cinema on her bed. The mouse hovered over the list of available footage when an email came in. It was a notification from her Terra Save account. The initial anger was blown away when she read who the message came from.

"Piers Nivans," she whispered to herself and opened the email.

_Dear Claire,_

_On behalf of our unit, I just wanted to say it was really nice to get to see you the other day. Thank you for taking the time to talk with everyone. The guys really appreciated it._

A smirk blossomed on her lips as she read the first lines. Piers was such a nice kid. It was hard to believe Chris had actually taught his men some manners. Grabbing a slice of pizza and leaning against the headboard of her bed, she kept reading.

_I know you were surprised by the men's reaction upon first seeing you. Let me explain. When we heard that Terra Save would be arriving on location, well, the men knew that you'd be coming and so they got a bit excited over the idea. They'd only heard stories about you, and since you're the Captain's sister, well...let's just say they were expecting someone more along the lines of his build. I tried to tell them otherwise, but their imaginations got the best of them._

The laughter almost made her choke on her food. So she wasn't what they had expected. Cute. She wondered if people imagined she looked like Chris in high heels when they heard about her. Her phone started ringing. Chuckling, she pressed the answer button as soon as she saw the name on the screen.

"Leon."

"Hey you!" He greeted. "How is my favorite redhead today?"

Oh, she was his favorite something now? Suspicious. Claire chuckled a bit as she kept scrolling through the email.

"Hah! I'm good. A little tired maybe. Had a tough day, but I'm home now. What about you?"

"In a hotel room in Eastern Slav Republic," he replied. "My night was shitty, too."

"You're in ESR?" She exhaled. Actually, she should have known that the government would send him when she'd read the news about the civil war there. Terra Save had been suspecting them to use bioweapons for a long time, too. "What happened? Are you alright?"

He chuckled.

"Nothing that a drink and a chat with Claire Redfield couldn't ease," he explained snickering. Charmer. Claire smiled. "Just tell me about you and cheer me up."

About her. Claire found herself sighing as she stared at her surroundings and the greasy pepperoni pizza she was sharing her bed with.

"Oh, I don't know if my current state cheers up anyone," she replied complaining. "I'm having dinner in bed and I'm currently reading the email one of my brother's men sent me."

A dark chuckle came through the line.

"You brother's men write you emails?"

She clicked her tongue almost instantly, as if she'd expected him to make dumb conclusions.

"It's not what you think. We had to cooperate recently and I met Alpha team. He thanked me for… well."

"Well  _what_? What did you do to them, you naughty girl?" Leon teased and made her laugh embarrassedly.

"What would I do to them?" Head shaking, she grabbed another slice of pizza. "You'll see. They behaved a little weird around me as they didn't expect me to be…"

"Not like Chris at all?"

"Yeah."

Leon laughed.

"I don't blame them. Have you ever gone through your resume? Survivor of Raccoon City, Rockfort Island, Antarctica, employee of Terra Save for ten years, savior of three people in Harvardville, lone survivor of fish roll island…"

"Moira and Natalia survived, too," she corrected him about their experience on Sushestvovanie. "But you're probably right. No wonder I don't match their expectations."

She kept reading.

_So then, when you arrived...well, aside from not being what they expected, we don't get to interact with a lot of pretty women in our line of work, so that's why they had the reaction that they did. Then they had to remember that you're the Captain's sister, and it made them all awkward... I'm sorry about that, ma'am._

She blushed a little. He had called her pretty. What a charmer. Leon mumbled something she didn't hear.

"Claire? Are you there?"

She laughed a little, caught off guard.

"Yes, sorry. What did you say?"

Leon chuckled.

"You haven't told me what he was thanking you for."

She licked over her lips, amused by Leon's insistence. Couldn't he understand that communication was very important in her job?

"For talking to everyone. He's being nice." Claire shook her head. "Of course, you don't understand that, as you're just nice when you want to bed some chick."

Leon cleared his throat. "Exactly."

_Exactly, what?_

"Excuse me?"

Leon's laughter had become dark, his voice was nearly failing.

"Claire, sweetheart. That guy wants to have sex with you."

Claire inhaled sharply when Leon expressed his filthy thoughts.

"Oh. Shut. The. Fuck. Up." She hissed offendedly into the phone. "You're the worst. He just wants to be nice."

The line rattled under Leon's laughter.

"Seriously. How many thank you emails have you gotten after other cooperations?"

Pouting, Claire swallowed the piece of pizza she'd been chewing.

"None."

"And have any of your brother's other men written to you?"

"No," she whispered and couldn't hold back a smile. "But that's absurd. He's like twenty."

"So what?"

"Seriously, stop it!" Claire giggled. Admittedly, the idea of being the target of a younger soldier, especially if it was a good-looking kid like Piers Nivans, wasn't entirely unpleasant. And he had called her pretty, after all. She giggled as she scrolled through the email.

_You probably saw it for yourself, but we all have a lot of admiration and respect for the captain. In addition to being a very capable leader, he treats us like family. He's an inspiration to us all._

"As I said, he's just being nice, Leon. He respects Chris a lot and probably thought it would be polite to thank his sister for her visit."

She could practically hear him roll his eyes.

_Speaking for the men, we're all looking forward to the chance to work with you again. Our paths may not cross often, and I know you're busy, but it'd be nice to talk every now and then, even through email._

Just polite, although he thought it'd be nice to talk. Talking — not fucking. Leon was showing again the poor people skills he had. As soon as her look jumped to the following line, she sucked in some air.

"Oh."

"Oh, what?" Leon asked laughing. "Is he asking what you're wearing right now?"

No, he wasn't. Claire felt her lips twitch in disappointment as she read the paragraph again. "You were wrong, my friend. Listen to this." She cleared her throat before she started to read aloud. "Just between you and me, if you have any pictures of the Captain when he was younger, I'd sure love to see them! I hear he was very different back then, but he won't show us anything..."

The line went silent after she'd read the petition. It seemed Leon was as disappointed as herself.

"Oh," he finally replied chuckling.

"Admit that you were wrong!" She exclaimed loudly, trying to yell the disenchantment away, which wasn't easy when you had the most sincere version of Leon Kennedy on the line.

"I admit that you're not the Redfield he wants to have sex with, yes."

Claire sighed. Once the words had been spoken aloud, they hurt unexpectedly much. She shook her head and forced a smile to cheer herself up.

"Anyway, I don't think he'll be any luckier with Chris than he'd have been with me." Disappointed, she put the notebook away and grabbed another slice of pizza instead.

"Hey, don't let that ruin your day! You're too good for a kid with bad taste who wants to jerk off to pictures of your brother."

Wasn't he lovely? He could be such a good friend when he just tried. Claire laughed and shook her head. No, she wasn't going to let this get to her. There were more important things in her life than being admired or not by a man half her age.

"Don't worry. My day was already ruined before that," she replied, shrugging. "I'll be alright. A kid like him can't compete with pizza in bed anyway."

"Well, that's what I call a one-night stand." His sarcastic tone made her laugh.

"You're just jealous. I'm sure they don't even have pepperoni pizza in ESR."

Leon clicked his tongue and Claire heard the particular jangling of ice cubes in a glass.

"No, but they have vodka!" He laughed and made Claire's heart ache a bit. Hundreds of times she'd seen him on the ground, and hundreds of times she'd tried to help him up. Fortunately, he usually got up on his own, but she was always the one he'd call first, so she could watch and suffer.

He still blamed her for leaving him and Sherry behind after Raccoon City; had let her know often enough that he hadn't forgiven her selfishness. And yet, he was still there. They'd become pretty good friends over the years—best friends, if not. However, past mistakes still stood between them.

"Leon, what happened?"

He cleared his throat.

"I don't want to talk about it now," he replied and Claire heard how he emptied his glass. "I will have some free time from next week on. Maybe we could meet. But I have to hang up now."

She nodded to herself.

"Yeah, sure. Just give me a call."

"Take care." Leon ended the call and left Claire staring at the device in her hands. All of a sudden, the pizza wasn't looking tasty any more. She closed the box and opened her laptop again, where the last lines of Piers' email were still waiting for her to read them.

_There's a lot more I'd like to say, but it's time to get ready for our next posting. These missions aren't easy, but it's nice to know we've got allies such as your organization backing us up. Keep fighting the good fight._

_1LT Piers Nivans_

_BSAA North American Branch_

Claire smirked. No matter what his intentions were, Piers seemed to be a good man and his admiration—or maybe love—for her brother was heartwarming. Opening a new window, she quickly replied to the message.

_Dear Piers,_

_Thank you for your kind message. It was a pleasure meeting you all the other day and myself, I am looking forward to working with the B.S.A.A. again, too._

Claire thought a while as Director Johnson came to her mind. Maybe she wasn't referring to all the members of the B.S.A.A.

_I want to congratulate you on your achievements and the dedication you are showing. Fighting bioterror isn't just a normal job, I know that. So, it makes me incredibly happy to see how many young and talented soldiers have chosen to follow my brother's leadership. I know he's a great soldier and I can truly understand how he's serving as an example to follow to you guys. I have always been looking up to him, too._

Yeah, that didn't sound bad. Now, she just had to add some gratefulness.

_So, thank you for your work. The world needs people like you guys in Alpha team._

Fantastic. Claire clicked through her hard drive and found several scanned pictures of Chris when he'd been younger. Because she'd been moving and travelling a lot, she'd digitalized all of her important pictures so she wouldn't lose them. She chose some pictures of Chris in his younger days as an Air Force pilot, one next to Jill Valentine after the creation of the B.S.A.A., and the picture of the two .R.S. teams before everything went to shit. She attached the pictures to the email and kept writing.

_You'll find attached some of the pictures you requested. I'm sure you'll recognize some of the people on them. If he, Jill Valentine or Barry Burton ever find out you have them, I'd appreciate if you didn't tell them it was me who sent them to you. I hope this satisfies your curiosity._

She read her lines again. He had asked for pictures about a younger Chris, hadn't he? Well, that's what she was giving him. But, maybe, if Leon was right and Piers was asking for other types of pics, these wouldn't really satisfy anything. Claire bit her lip and switched to her image folder again. Without thinking much, she attached a picture of Chris and Jill dressed up as sailor and pirate for a Halloween party from 2005. Jill looked stunningly hot. Chris, to be honest, looked like he had lost a bet and was forced to wear that tiny Village People costume.

_I'd appreciate if you just deleted them after their use ;)_

_Best regards_

_Claire Redfield_

_Head of Operations_

_Terra Save_


	3. Dinner ends with dessert

"Holy shit! You look like a clown on drugs." Moira always knew how to make her feel better. The good thing about Burton's often-offending honesty was that, if she ever made a compliment, she definitely meant it.

Claire looked up from her report, her hand still stuck in the bag of potato chips she'd been emptying during the night.

"Can't be that bad." She muttered before her tongue stroked over her teeth.

Moira clicked her tongue angrily and pulled a tiny mirror from her handbag, turning the reflection to Claire.

"If that's not bad, what is?"

Claire contemplated her visage with certain boredom, soon admitting that Moira wasn't entirely wrong. The grey shadow she'd practically blasted onto her lids before going to work had become one with the dark circles under her eyes. The rest of her face was pale and lifeless and her hair hung in greasy strands over her forehead.

"I look like a clown on drugs indeed."

Moira, sighing, sat in front of her friend and removed the snacks from the table.

"How long have you been here?" Her stabbing glance pierced into her friend's eyes. Claire shrugged.

"I came on Tuesday, I think."

"You kidding?" Moira exclaimed, wide-eyed. "It's Thursday! You slept here two nights?"

Claire rolled her eyes and got up to grab some coffee. The good thing about leading the Operations department was the private office with a coffee maker and a couch to spend some nights on if needed. Of course, the directors knew the responsibilities the position came with, that was for sure.

"There's been a lot of work to do. Colombia, India, Eastern Slav Republic, the troubles they're having in the camp in Kijuju. Not to mention that I've been charged with the work of other departments." She turned, lifting the cup. "Want some?"

Moira shook her head.

"I know that you're busy, Claire," the girl replied, tilting her head, "But you can't just stop your life because of Terra Save."

Claire chuckled. Terra Save was not the problem. Her life had stopped the day she'd run into Raccoon City searching for her brother. Since then, nothing had ever been normal again, with outbreaks and infections slowly creeping into her everyday life. The work for the organization at least made the nightmares go away.

"Someone has to do this job, Moira." Walking back to her computer, she smiled at her friend. "But I promise that tomorrow, I'll sleep home."

Moira's eyes narrowed into a skeptical gaze as her friend dropped back onto the chair.

"No, you won't." She replied coldly.

A frown grew on Claire's face.

"Don't believe me?" She chuckled, but Moira was deadly serious.

"No. You will spend tomorrow night at Lance's."

Eyes shot to her friend in confusion. One or two blinks later, the embarrassing question was asked.

"Who?"

Moira jumped up.

"The date I organized for you weeks ago!" She yelled as she stomped through the office in wide circles. "You know! Thirty-five, lawyer, good-looking, divorced, no children and, according to the girl he was married to, amazing in bed."

Claire rolled her eyes and turned back to the report. Dammit, how could she have forgotten how much Moira had nagged her until she'd agreed to meet the mysterious guy? He sounded like a perfect match, actually, but something about the idea still bothered her.

"If he's so amazing, why did she divorce him?" Claire asked from behind a wide grin.

Moira pouted.

"That's none of my business."

Claire huffed out a laugh and gave Moira a grateful glance as her fingers began to run hastily over the keyboard.

"Thank you, Moira, but I'm sorry. I can't go. Not tomorrow. I still have to plan my trip to India next week." She bore her fingers into the keys as if there was no tomorrow. "Maybe some other day. Can you change…"

"I'm not changing anything!" The black-haired girl yelled, hitting her both palms so hard onto the desk she sent papers flying off. "Claire, I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing it for you! You need to go out. See something else than bioterror. I mean, all the people you know are involved in this shit. I get it. It's important, but that doesn't mean you can't take a break every now and then and…" She dropped into the chair and leaned over the desk, lowering her voice. "Be honest. How long has it been since you last had sex?"

The redhead sighed in annoyance. Naturally, that question must come up. Moira's daily teasing had originated from Claire's lack of social life, after all, but was the young Burton really expecting an answer to that? As she thought of what she was going to tell her friend, Moira was already forming a judgement.

"That long, huh?" Moira asked, smirking. "Come on! It will do you good."

Claire exhaled deeply. Perhaps Moira was right. She'd been stuck between work and people who talked about work for way too long. Even when she met with Chris, they'd just discuss new missions and threats. And the sex? She wouldn't admit it easily, but ever since she'd found out about Neil's treason, it had been hard for her to let anyone get near her. The last chance she'd had was at the Christmas party where she'd tried to get herself drunk enough to not care anymore about whom exactly she was trying to hook up with.

Unfortunately, the one she'd chosen had apparently come with the same idea and had fallen asleep in a random corner after puking over her dress. Leon had laughed his ass off when she'd told him the story. Sure, for him it was all easy, as he changed his bedmates as often as his underwear, maybe even more frequently. Luckily, they had long gotten over the shameless flirting and sex offers. Right now, the situation was so desperate that Claire might have even accepted an offer coming from him.

She sighed.

"Alright. I will go."

Moira started jumping and clapped her hands merrily.

"Great. While you finish that report of yours, I will get you a waxing appointment this afternoon."

"Moira, wai-"

Before she could send out her complaint, Moira had already left her office. Claire leaned back in her chair.

The week was getting even longer than she'd expected.

* * *

Alpha team was on the training ground, as they had been the five previous days. After the mission in Canada, where two of them had nearly lost their lives, Chris was having them train harder than ever. The Captain took every mistake personally and blamed himself for the missteps they had taken. This time, they'd been lucky, but one never knew when a bad call would take lives.

Piers was the first to finish the circuit they had set up for training, followed closely by Andy and Chris. It wasn't usual that a captain did the same exercises as his unit, but they all appreciated that Chris joined them. He was a wonderful captain who everybody looked up to...

...which was somehow incompatible with wearing a tight sailor Halloween costume.

Piers panted and downed an entire bottle of water before toweling his face and hair dry. The picture of Chris in shorts had been slightly disconcerting and it wasn't even because of what he was wearing. He himself had often been forced to wear embarrassing costumes for Halloween as well—by Amy, mostly. But why in the world would Claire share such private pictures of her brother with him?

Admittedly, asking her for pictures of Chris had been bold. But, aside from really wanting to see some, he'd also thought that Claire would ask him to meet up so she could show him. How could he have known that she'd send him digital copies attached in an email?

"Well done, Piers." Chris patted his shoulder and smirked, keeping his voice low. "You weren't only the fastest. Your scores are topping the rest as well."

Piers smirked proudly and gave his captain a nod.

"Thank you, Chris," he replied. "Things like Vancouver won't happen again, I promise."

Chris shrugged and shook his head.

"It wasn't your fault, but I appreciate your devotion."

Piers chewed on his lower lip. Seeing how much the failures were getting Chris down made him wonder sometimes if his captain wasn't taking things a little too personally. He nodded once.

"It's not your fault either, Captain."

Chris shook his head.

"That's it, soldier.  _Captain_. It says that it was, indeed, my fault." He sighed. "I have a responsibility with you guys. Whatever happens under my command-both victories and failures-is my merit."

Before Piers could reply again, the last soldier of Alpha team crossed the finish line and was soon scoffed at by his teammates for being so slow. Chris turned, rolled his eyes, and proceeded to intervene.

"Guys! What have I taught you? There will always be a last one, but we're a team. We're all doing our best here and if someone isn't getting the results he targets, it's the responsibility of the entire group to become better. A team can only be as good as every member of it. Understood?"

Piers' look drove through the embarrassed round of soldiers. He smirked. Chris was an amazing leader.

An amazing leader who dressed up as hot sailor for Halloween.

* * *

The lacy underwear was scrubbing her skin off. Moira had chosen a cute set of a wine-red bra and thong for her date with that Lance guy. Luckily, Claire had been able to convince her friend to let her attend in jeans, a shirt and a jacket instead of the belt-wide skirt the younger woman had chosen for her. This way, she still felt a little more like herself that night, even though she preferred flat shoes in case she'd have to run from a B.O.W.

Anyway, Claire soon found out that there was something worse than a bioterror outbreak that could happen to her that night. His name was Lance and he was, as Moira had pressed, a lawyer, divorced and childless. So far so good, but how anyone could find that guy attractive was a mystery to Claire. During dinner, he didn't stop talking about himself. He told her what to order and, when she dared complain, he recited his list of ten reasons why women should always listen to their men. Claire chose the chicken instead of the fish anyway, obviously displeasing the man.

Admittedly, he looked good, but that wasn't enough to raise any interest in someone like Claire Redfield and Moira should have known that. Lance was a narcissistic, invidious animal with a bovine vision of the world and the people in it. Right before dessert, after the second bottle of wine Claire had barely tasted, he confessed to her that he had expected someone Moira's age, but that he would gladly let her do to him what she wanted if she just let him finish the third bottle.

Claire decided that what she wanted to do to him wasn't legal. She said a prayer for the lucky girl who had divorced him, paid for her food and left the restaurant before he could look up from the wine list again. That was definitely the last date Moira organized for her.

Her night could perfectly end without sex, but not without dessert, she thought, and so, she found herself in that 7/11, at almost 11pm, lining up to pay for a bucket of strawberry cheesecake ice cream because it was what her body demanded. She smiled happily while thinking how she was going to gulp down the whole tub on her own, on her couch, and not think of Lance ever again.

When she got to pay for her reward for the awful night, the Chinese shopkeeper gave her an almost mocking smile.

"Cheesecake, huh? The big one." He asked as the scanner beeped under the bar codes of the groceries.

Claire just frowned at him. Who was that guy to judge her? Her growing fat and getting diabetes was none of his business. Teeth clenching, she was about to say something insulting when he lifted the tub of ice cream he was having himself.

"It's my favorite, too," he said smiling and took a spoonful.

Claire just smirked at him and wished him a goodnight before walking out of the shop with her sweet temptation. She was glad it was the weekend and she wouldn't run into Moira and her interrogation the following day. Maybe come Monday, her friend would have long forgotten about her date with Lance. Claire started walking to the left when she suddenly bumped into someone. Fuck, she hadn't even seen that person coming.

"Claire?" After checking that her ice-cream bucket hadn't been smashed, she looked up to the face of the man who was giving her a wide, yet confused, smile. He probably hadn't expected to find her that late on the street.

"Oh, hi!" She replied. There was that nice smile again. "Piers. How are you? What are you doing here?"

Claire kept checking the integrity of her dessert as Piers smiled at her and shrugged.

"I live right around the corner," he explained with a shrug and a nice smirk, "I was just grabbing some food and was going to fall into bed after having dinner."

Claire's eyebrows rose as she became aware that she'd gotten a huge bucket of ice cream when she still had a thirty minute commute home. Dammit, how could she have been so mindless? Luckily it wasn't a very hot summer night. She nodded in understanding.

"I see." She said, tilting her head.

"Are you alright?" Piers' narrowed eyes scanned her. She looked different with brighter make-up on, her hair down and dressed in fine clothes and high heels. Still beautiful, he realized, but different.

' _She has probably never looked less like her brother.'_  He had to hold back a chuckle when the thought popped into his mind. Claire shrugged.

"Yes, of course." She nodded. "I had just an awfully long week…and evening."

Piers watched her as she responded. He felt he was keeping her away from something important, but he somehow wanted to tell her that she could count on him. He was her brother's second-in-command, and if he would be there for Chris, why wouldn't he be there for his sister? He cleared his throat.

"It sounds like you could use a drink."

Blue eyes darted to his face. What had he said? Use a drink? She felt the cold dessert in her hands get softer. She could use a freezer. Laughter freed itself from her mouth.

"Yeah, it's one of those nights." She affirmed, nodding and regretting it just a second later.

"I can offer you a beer at my place."

She inhaled sharply. He was inviting her over. She squealed a bit, not knowing how to say no. He wasn't expecting her to accept the invitation, was he? Before she could shake her head no, he kept speaking.

"Oh, sorry," he excused himself pointing at the sweets in her arms. "You're probably already on your way to someone else's place."

And then he winked. He winked at her and Claire didn't know what that wink meant. Was if one of those ironic gestures that said  _I know you have nothing better to do, but I won't ask questions_? Or was he really believing she had someone waiting for her? Claire inspected his smile and decided it had to be the latter option. How cute. Before he could say goodbye, she smirked, head shaking.

"No, this…this was actually for me alone," she laughed, "I mean, I wasn't going to have it all tonight." Her look dropped to the ice-cream tub and felt how it slowly melted in her hands. "Or maybe I will have to."

She looked up at him again and shrugged. Whatever. He was a nice kid hopelessly in love with her brother and he wasn't just trying to fool her, was he?

"If you want to help me finish this off, I would actually accept that beer."

And then the night wasn't over anymore.

* * *

When Piers had told her that he lived right around the corner, she hadn't really been aware of where they had been standing. Apparently, the B.S.A.A.'s soldiers made much more money than she'd expected. He led her to a building in one of the most expensive streets of the city. The silent  _wow_  Claire exhaled when the elevator doors opened earned a chuckle.

"Don't draw hasty conclusions," he said as he pushed the key into the lock of the first door to his right, "This apartment belongs to my family."

She nodded slightly but, blinded by the polished marble walls and expensive lightning, she didn't care to ask more questions.

While the entry hall and the corridors had been equipped with all kinds of art and furniture she'd never be able to buy, the inside of his apartment was bare. The living and dining room were kept in a sterile white, lacking any type of personal stuff aside from a laptop on the table in front of the TV. Piers left the bags of food on the table and invited her to have a seat before he sprinted into the kitchen.

"Mind if I take my shoes off?" Claire asked among laughter. "They are killing me."

"Not at all!" He replied from the kitchen, actually feeling flattered by the fact that Claire felt so comfortable in his apartment. She could take off whatever she wanted.

Piers clenched his teeth and cursed himself silently. What the hell was he thinking? She was his captain's sister, for god's sake. He'd better have some ice cream to cool himself down.

Claire looked around. The apartment seemed smaller than the outer structure had suggested, but it was clean and tidy; surely a nice place to live. It somehow reminded her of Leon's place, although she hadn't been in his apartment more than twice. Piers returned from the kitchen with spoons and a six pack of beer.

"This is a nice place." Claire noted as she looked towards the balcony and the city lights behind the glass. Piers chuckled.

"It is, indeed. I'm not home very often, though."

He handed her a spoon so she could enjoy her dessert. Ice cream and beer. She wasn't entirely sure if the combination wouldn't curdle in her stomach and make her sick, but she didn't want to do without beer nor ice cream that night, and Piers' apartment probably hosted the most expensive toilet she'd ever get the chance to throw up into. The young soldier sat down next to her and began to eat the sandwich he'd gotten for dinner.

"Do you want some?"

Claire declined thankfully, pointing her spoon at the bucket of ice cream.

"I'll stick to this, thanks."

"So," Piers began, smirking as he chewed on some salad, "If it's not too personal to ask. Do you live nearby?"

Claire shook her head again, chuckling.

"Oh, no. I just…I was just..." She licked her lips and smirked regretfully. Why not tell him about her failure? Who was he to judge her for trying? "I went on a date with an awful guy tonight."

She'd expected him to laugh or to look away shyly, but nothing like that happened. It seemed that Piers Nivans knew exactly how to ask the right questions at the right time. He blinked, frowned and tilted his head.

"Did you know he was an awful guy before tonight?"

Claire rammed the spoon back into the creamy sweetness and laughed.

"No. It was a blind date a friend had set up for me." At Piers' surprised expression, she nodded, laughing. "Yeah. People assume I work too much."

He nodded and narrowed his eyes as he proceeded to open the first can of beer.

"I know where that comes from," he confessed, rolling his eyes as gave his watch a critical look, "I think your brother is still at headquarters now."

They laughed together and Claire noticed again how handsome the young man was. Why did all nice men have to be gay...or taken? Or  _dead_? Maybe he wasn't entirely homosexual. Maybe he had some experience with women.

Claire nearly laughed at her own stupidity. What the hell was she thinking? Following Piers' example, she opened a can herself and took a generous sip. She felt strangely comfortable in his presence and thought that, maybe, they could be friends. It was good to have friends, wasn't it? She had far too few of them and her only real male friend was Leon, anyway. Leon, whose vision of life was the most toxic influence she could ever get in touch with. She could surely use a gay friend in her ensemble.

"I wanted to thank you again for your quick response to my email." Piers suddenly interrupted her train of thought. "I'm sorry it took me so long to write back to you, but…" He cleared his throat. "Well, you know, we're always busy."

She just offered him a nod in return.

"I know that."

Of course, she knew, but it was only half of the truth. The reason why he hadn't replied to her immediately with a huge thank you was the shock he'd had to overcome after seeing the picture of Chris and Jill Valentine dressed up for Halloween. He still wasn't sure if Claire hadn't attached it by accident, or exactly what she had meant by  _delete after using it_.

"It was really nice to get a message from you," she explained, "And don't worry about the men's behavior. I found it oddly flattering."

She laughed again and took another sip from her beer as Piers watched her until she stared into his eyes. Damn. He was really handsome, especially during the rare times he smiled. Too bad he was the serious kind of guy. Chris had trained him well. Poor kid. It had to be hard to work with the man one had hidden feelings for, especially if that man was Chris, as Chris was too busy unconsciously chasing Jill Valentine to even think about becoming gay.

"Nivans, Nivans…" She started yelping in a singsong voice as she sat the tub back onto the table.

"Piers," he replied in an insisting tone.

"Piers! Of course." She made a pitying grimace. A part of her couldn't understand how Chris had gotten so lucky. He had both pretty Jill and cute Nivans at his feet — and he didn't do anything about any of them. Life was definitely not fair at all. Poor Piers. Head tilted to the side and brows furrowed, she widened her lips into a warm smile. "Look, Piers. Let me tell you something."

He stared at her surprised as she grabbed his shoulder in a sisterly manner. What type of advice was she going to give him? Something inside him seemed to tell him he wouldn't like what he was about to hear. However, he smiled back at her and nodded.

"What is it?"

She took a breath and shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

"I know how it can be. We sometimes want things we can't have." She hesitated and tightened her grip around his shoulder. It felt incredibly strong, she noticed, as she let her fingertips trail a line over the curve towards his neck. "Chris is a great leader. Human. Close. And his treatment can be confusing, I guess, but he's not looking for anything...you understand?"

Not a single word. Claire was speaking in riddles. However, she wasn't able to explain it any better, Piers assumed. What she had muttered had been probably already a huge effort to her. The young soldier just smirked, nodding. Time to come up with a universal truth to put an end to this uneasy conversation.

"It isn't easy to be his little sister, is it?"

Easy? Not really, no. Ever since Chris had gotten into bioterrorism, he had been nothing but a pain in the ass. His intentions were the best, but his methods were lousy. Shutting communication to protect her, trying not to build too close bonds with his partner to avoid getting in danger, treating his men like brothers, causing them to fall in love with him...and who was the one to clean up the mess? Claire.  _Always_  Claire.

She shook her head.

"No." A smile crawled up her face. "You're a nice, clever man, Piers. You deserve everything you wish for." Her eyes narrowed. "Just don't let Chris control your life, okay?"

Cute. So, she didn't want him to turn into a workaholic like her brother. She wasn't only one of the prettiest, independent women he had ever met; she also had a heart of gold behind those perfectly shaped breasts. Piers felt his heart beat a little faster.

"Okay." He cleared his throat and smirked shyly, hoping she wouldn't notice how indiscreetly he was staring at her cleavage.

He looked like a puppy that had been kicked out of a car in the middle of a ride and it made Claire's heart shrink a bit. Poor kid. Sure, she had meant well, but who was she to tell him what to do with his life? All she wanted to do was to tell him that he could count on her, but maybe her own methods were as dumb and useless as Chris'.

"I know it's not the same, but…" She jolted her chair closer to Piers' and angled her head. "I think you deserve a real Redfield kiss."

What? Was she…? Damn, yes, she was. It happened too fast to stop her and it took him completely by surprise.

She pushed forward and softly caressed his lips with hers, her hand still on his shoulder. The kiss was sweet and innocent, without tongue, of course, but even so, Piers felt the blood rush through his veins.

The smell of his fresh aftershave stung her nose. If he had been a real candidate to consider, she would have probably been attracted by the fragrance. Anyway, she enjoyed the soft touch more than she was allowed to. It had been a while since she'd been that intimate with anyone and Piers was a really good-looking, cute and nice kid.

Unfortunately, his lips started to move pretty soon. Claire assumed he had enough and prepared to pull back, ready to give him a wide, apologetic smirk. It was something she never got to do though because, as soon as she tried to break their kiss, Piers pulled her back. It stole her breath. His hand firmly on her neck, he pulled her back into him and wouldn't let go.

Once their lips had met, he couldn't let her go again. His hand had reached almost magnetically for her neck and held her there, close to him. She was Chris' sister, yes, and the Captain would get so mad if he found out. The sheer thought should've stopped him, but for some reason, it pushed him even further instead. He opened his mouth and nibbled on Claire's lower lip as his hand ran up and down her neck.

She yelped in surprise, sucking in a short breath through the tiny gaps Piers' mouth on hers left open for air to flood through. When the young man tried to push his tongue past her lips, she shied away.

"Piers, wait." With one hand on his shoulder in a defensive demeanor, she frowned at him.

Was this his way to forget her brother? That was crazy and it would never work. Their eyes met and Piers smiled at her seductively, taking her hand and placing a tiny kiss onto her fingertips. Claire swallowed. Why had he to be so damn attractive?

"Chris…"

"Stop thinking about your brother for a minute." He whispered as his finger ran down the trail of her jaw, from her ear to her chin. He cupped the latter and pulled her closer again. "He's not here. It's just us two."

It was all kinds of insane, and certainly something they would both regret later, but if he wanted to go on, who was she to stop him? A warm smile popped onto her face and invited him back in, and the chance was taken instantly. Piers ran his lips over hers in an attempt to steal another kiss from her. This time, Claire opened up without hesitating, giving his tongue free access to hers. Her hand reached for his neck and stayed there, her fingertips moving in small circles over his skin. His kiss was intense; hot and not too wet—simply perfect. So perfect she wondered if his other qualities were as satisfying as his kisses.

Piers looped his left arm around her waist and pushed his right one under her knees to pull her feather weight onto his lap—and onto the bulge in his pants. Claire moaned, surprised by how quickly he had gotten hard for her. He wanted her, it seemed; that beautiful, young replica of a Greek deity really wanted her.  _Good_. There was no way to deny that she wanted him as well. It wouldn't make it any easier for him to get Chris—nor over him—but that was something  _he_  would have to deal with later. Her mind went through the drinks she'd had and decided it was enough for her to blame her unwise decisions on the alcohol. Besides, she had done much worse in the past, and if Piers was willing to give her the closeness her body longed for, it was worth an embarrassing conversation the morning after.

Her hand ran down his torso, exploring his hard body on its way down until she found the hem of his shirt and stroked along the line of it, shyly asking for permission. He decided to make it easier for her, breaking their kiss and pulling the clothing over his head himself. Her teeth dug into her lower lip at the sight of his trained body and she eventually started removing her own jacket before cupping his jaw again and pressing their mouths back together. She could have kissed him for the rest of her miserable life, that much she knew. Piers slowly pushed both his hands under her shirt and filled them with her breasts as their lips and tongues kept playing with and around each other's. Claire moaned in delight and opened her mouth a little wider to him. He tasted like turkey and beer. It was nothing especially arousing, but after a long celibacy like hers, she couldn't have found it more exciting. She pulled back and Piers helped her take her shirt off.

Fuck, she was gorgeous! That tiny bra of hers seemed to show more skin than it was actually covering and he couldn't stop himself from thumbing over one of her soft, round breasts again. Claire took his jaw in both hands and pulled his mouth back to hers.

"What now?" She asked in a sultry tone after licking over his lips once more. The dim light behind her drew a bright line around her silhouette and Piers was wowed by the view.

"Come with me." He moved and made her get up, pulling her after him into the bedroom.

If the living room had seemed sterile, the bedroom looked like a hospital. The bed was dressed in white sheets and a simple round lamp had been placed on the nightstand without much effort to make it look cozy. The mattress seemed comfortable though. It looked like the typical bedroom of someone who wasn't home very often.

He stood behind her as she inspected the room, pressing his lips on her auburn hair and his erection against her lower back. Even in heels, she was much shorter than him. Barefooted, the difference was even greater.

He leaned over and kissed her neck until she shivered under his touch. Chuckling, he decided to go a bit further and pushed his hand down her belly. Once the button of her pants had come undone, he slid them between her thighs. Maybe waxing had actually been a good idea, Claire thought.

And  _damn_ , Piers knew what he was doing. His touch was proof enough that he had, indeed, experience with women—or girls. Whatever. The delicate spots were usually the same, regardless of the age. She moaned as he boldly he pushed a finger into her.

He reacted immediately to her soaking wetness, feeling himself twitch in his pants. Claire was wet and ready for him and, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember the last time he had been so turned on. All he could think of was half-naked Claire in his bedroom, as if he had pursued this for his whole life. He pulled his hand back out and turned her to face him, amused by the blush on her face that made her red hair look almost grey in comparison.

She watched him attentively as he licked her flavor off his fingers and she swallowed down the knot in her throat. She Once he was finished, Claire pulled herself onto tiptoes and pressed her lips back onto his. Her hands, meanwhile, started working his belt off his waist. As soon as she unzipped his pants, she curled her fingers around his bulge, rubbing him through the fabric of his boxer briefs. He was rock-hard and perfectly sized to fit easily into her mouth. The thought nearly made her chuckle against his lips. Maybe it was best to leave the blowjob for another day, Claire thought and pushed him down onto the corner of the mattress instead.

One or two naughty smirks later, her pants slid to the floor, revealing her matching wine-red underwear. He blew out a breath and took her hand, making her straddle him. He caught her lips and grabbed a small wrapper from his pocket. A condom. Good idea. She bit his lip and jerked back so he could take his shaft out and suit it properly in latex.

What happened next went way too fast to describe it very accurately, as they didn't even take care of removing their clothes fully. The fabric of her wet underwear ended up nudged aside so he could drive right into her. Their panting voices filled the room as she started rocking her hips up and down, back and forth, aided by his strong hands on her waist.

"Oh, Claire."

Her insides embraced him with their heat. He unclasped her bra with one hand and tossed the clothing aside, cupped her left breast, and brought his mouth to her hardened nipple.

"Yes, like that." She moaned and tilted her head back, eyes closed as she rode him.

Piers, however, soon grabbed her neck again and pulled her head back towards him. He wanted to stare into her eyes and see all the lust in them, to check how much she was really enjoying it.

"Oh, god!" That much, huh? Good to know. He would give her some more.

"Lie down," he commanded and made Claire crawl onto the bed as he stripped completely, "On your side."

He climbed onto the bed and spooned her, his hands softly caressing over her waist from behind. Lifting her right leg, he carefully drove into her from behind. Claire had sucked in a breath when she'd felt his hand on her thighs and, even moments after, she couldn't exhale. Piers was big and, from the new angle, he reached a very pleasing spot in her. Her hand reached back automatically and grabbed his thigh.

"Oh, Claire," he whispered against the nape of her neck from behind, "This feels so good."

It really did. He pushed his free hand under her upper body and began rolling her breast in his palm. Claire cried out. It had been a while since anyone had touched her the way he did and her body was responding very positively to the contact. Turning her head back, she allowed him free access to her ear, which the young soldier took advantage of immediately.

"Piers." Her moan filled the room as his teeth sank into her earlobe.

She felt like fire around him and he feared she'd burn them both. He couldn't believe this was really happening-he was taking Claire Redfield in his own bed. The sheer thought was so thrillingly forbidden, he could've come at any time, and Piers began to wonder if it wasn't only a beautiful dream. His grip around her breast tightened as he bit her neck. If it was just a dream, was there a way he could have it every single night for the rest of his life?

He shifted his weight onto his elbow and leaned over Claire's shaking body, angling her leg a little further up. The sight of her soft features and that adorable shimmer of red on her face when she moaned his name drove him crazy and she was so impossibly wet.

"I'm close, baby," he groaned in pleasure as he slammed his hips harder against her, "Come with me."

And before Claire could beg for more time, Piers sunk his teeth into the curve between her neck and shoulders and came hard and fast to the scream he ripped from her throat. Claire obeyed. Seconds after him, she cried her own orgasm into the softness of the pillow.

Silence overcame them as they slowly recovered their breath and Claire became aware of what she had just done. Her talkative, diplomatic side wanted to speak about what had happened. Chris' sister, though, just wanted to avoid the conversation, get out of there and never mention the subject again. She felt the weight behind her shift and began to move uncomfortably.

Piers seemed to turn around to get up. It was probably a silent invitation for her to move, get dressed and go. Rolling onto her arm, she tried to get up when she felt his hand on her forearm and his lips on her shoulder. Claire turned her head and stared into the boy's hazel eyes. He used his smile on her again, leaving her immediately unarmed. His hand cupped her chin and his lips found hers before he covered both their bodies with a thin blanket and laid his strong arm around her.

"Stay." He whispered into her ear as he felt her struggle slightly.

Claire swallowed hard. It was really best if she just left his place and never came back. Piers, however, tightened his grip around her and nuzzled her neck, tickling the soft skin behind her ear until her lips turned upwards into a smile.

She sighed.

"Alright."


	4. Not a mistake, just a happy little accident

The first rays of sun tickled her awake. Claire had slept unexpectedly well and it took her a second to understand where she was, as the white walls didn't look at all familiar. However, once she remembered the happenings of the previous night, panic overcame her. Her look jumped to Piers, who was sleeping peacefully next to her and snoring softly. The sunlight shone directly onto his beautiful facial features and Claire noticed how young he really looked. How old could he possibly be? Twenty? Twenty-one? Clenching her teeth, she cursed herself. Was she so desperate that she had turned into a cradle robber who assaults little boys? Although, strictly speaking, nothing about Piers was really  _little_.

Claire rolled her eyes at her own thought and slowly turned to the edge of the bed, trying not to wake the soldier. After pulling up her pants and strapping her bra back on, she walked back into the living room where she had left her shirt, jacket and shoes the night before. The dining table was a mess full of uneaten food and unfinished cans of beer. Her delicious ice cream was now a milkshake. Claire lifted the tub and took a big gulp of what was once supposed to be her dessert. A moody grimace appeared on her face as she saw that the only bathroom in the apartment was right next to the bedroom. She had to pee, but the flush would surely wake Piers…

Wake him? She frowned. Was she actually considering leaving without saying goodbye or good morning? Shouldn't she know better? Claire cursed her own disrespectfulness and walked back to the bed, tapping a finger onto the man's shoulder.

"Hey, Piers." Her soft voice joined the rhythmic tapping until the soldier turned around and smiled at her, eyes still half closed.

"Good morning."

"Good morning." She replied.

How nice he looked when he smiled. She furrowed her nose a bit and pointed at the door.

"I'll be gone in a minute, after I use your bathroom. I mean, if I may." She smiled and started shrugging a shoulder. "Thank you for the invitation and…" She hesitated. "You know. I had a great time. And don't worry." She winked at him. "Chris doesn't have to know about this."

He frowned slightly but nodded as she walked back to the door.

"Wait!" He suddenly called after her and she turned around. "You're leaving?"

Claire furrowed a brow. Among all the things she had told him, was that all he had understood?

"Uhm, well…"

"Without breakfast?"

Breakfast? She stared back at him. If she was completely honest, she was starving, but couldn't get herself to give him anything but a hesitant smile.

"I don't know. I…" She began to stutter nonsense as she watched how Piers uncovered himself and got up.

Her eyes jumped to a spot on the wall, as she didn't want to stare. Okay, she wanted to, but she considered it a little impolite. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he was wearing his underwear again. When had he gotten up to put his boxer briefs back on? She looked into his eyes as soon as he stood in front of her.

"Nobody leaves my apartment without having breakfast." He smiled, showing his upper row of perfect, white teeth.

Not again. He certainly knew how to make her feel uncomfortable and Claire cursed him silently. She bit her lip and smirked.

"What if I'm not the type who usually has breakfast?" Her sarcastic glance fell on his lifted eyebrow.

"You forget that I work with your brother. He always tells us how important breakfast is and I'm sure he shared the same wisdom with you."

One last smile and he walked past her, out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.

"So, eggs and bacon?" His yell came from the hallway.

She rolled her eyes. How was she going to make him understand that she wanted to leave? Wasn't it enough that he had already made her spend the whole night at his place?

"Piers, I really..." She turned around and saw him lean on the door frame again with a huge smile on his handsome face.

"Or would you rather fancy a bowl of cereal?" A short moment of hesitation, followed by the shy smirk on her face seemed proof enough to him. "Yeah, you would."

She closed her eyes defeatedly. He wasn't going to give up easily, that was sure. One finger rose.

"Just one tiny bowl."

* * *

Piers' kitchen was as neat and clean as the rest of his apartment. Equipped with the basics plus a kitchen robot which would probably take care of every food a young man could wish for, it seemed to be the room he used less when he was in New York. Sitting on a stool in front of the counter, she watched him prepare two bowls of cereal and fresh milk. His back was turned to her, allowing her a generous glance on his butt. He had put his pants back on, but she could still see how well trained it was—almost as much as his back.

Claire bit her lower lip as her look rose and inspected the perfection that reached over to his shoulder blades. His back would probably be her favorite part of him...that is, if she was supposed—or allowed—to have a favorite part of him. When the young man turned around and nearly caught her staring, she sucked in an inaudible breath of shame and looked away. Piers didn't react, though, and just left the two bowls on the counter and sat down, facing Claire.

"Enjoy them," he said, winking amusedly, "It's my grandma's secret recipe."

She couldn't help but giggle at his feigned culinary pride.

"Thanks. You too." She pushed the spoon into the bowl and took up some cereal, gave the rings a hungry look and finally stuffed them into her mouth. She stopped chewing as she saw Piers watch her attentively. "What's wrong?"

He smiled tenderly.

"I'm probably sitting in front of the only woman who tells her food how much she loves it before eating."

The comment made Claire giggle.

"I just like imagining its taste before I actually eat it. It makes my mouth water." A shameless smirk let her know he wasn't having very pure thoughts about that detail and caused her to narrow her eyes. "Don't get too excited, Nivans. I only do that in the case of desserts and sweets."

Although...he had practically been her dessert the night before. Fearing the thought would make her blush, Claire turned her face back to the bowl. Piers cleared his throat.

"So, you said that you won't tell your brother how bad I've been?" He asked innocently and gave her a shy look from below.

Claire inhaled sharply and faked outrage.

"Now I understand everything!" She yelled at him, barely able to hold back the chuckle. "You're just using breakfast to buy my silence."

They laughed together, giving Claire a hard time to catch her breath again.

"Don't worry. I won't run to him right away to tell him about this. Also, I'd say both of us have been bad."

He smirked. He hadn't really expected Claire to tell him anything about their night together, but he preferred she knew that he didn't want his Captain to think he had taken advantage of her kindness.

"Thanks for understanding."

"You're welcome." She smiled tenderly at him and squeezed his hand. "But, now that our relationship has gotten a bit closer and if you allow me the comment, you should really forget him."

He tilted his head and shook it slightly.

"Forget whom?"

"Chris." She smiled. "I can't discard for sure that he has never been curious about men. But I know that he's into someone…like, very seriously…and it's a woman."

A slimy and thick knot built itself in his throat. As all attempts to gulp it down seemed to fail and he just looked down, stirring his cereal in silence. Claire watched him, regretting having been a bit too harsh. Damnit! Hadn't she promised she would be nicer to him? When Piers found his voice again, he looked at her and frowned.

"Claire, I might be wrong, but…" He hesitated. "Are you suggesting that I'm into your brother?"

She blinked. Once, hesitating. Twice, doubtfully.

"You're not?"

They stared at each other in silence. Neither of them really knew what to do or say. What would be best to make that awful tension go away? Smiling? Yeah, smiling was probably a good idea. They stared at each other's teeth between their lips. Chuckling shortly? The sound of shallowly blown out breaths filled the air. She put two fingers onto her mouth and bit her lip. Bursting into laughter? Yeah. Laugh and everything gets better immediately. They both cried out, laughing full-heartedly at the hilarious situation, remembering the embarrassing moments the huge misunderstanding had caused. Piers was the first one to catch his breath.

"Oh my god!" The laughter had even gotten his eyes teary. Claire was still fighting against the attack. "That explains why you sent me that picture of the sailor costume with the note  _delete after using_."

Claire grabbed a napkin and held it in front of her mouth until she could speak again.

"Well, I thought you would enjoy that." She finally managed to breathe regularly again. "I mean, why would you ask me for pictures of him if it wasn't to see his…well…?"

"Well what?" He laughed. "We were curious about how he looked like when he was our age!"

"But it didn't sound like that!" She defended her position and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

A few seconds later, she had recovered the email Piers had sent her some weeks before. Clearing her throat, she began to read, "Just between you and me, if you have any pictures of the Captain when he was younger, I'd sure love to see them!"

She put down the phone and shrugged.

"Just between you and me? I'd sure  _love_ to see them? I mean, what were you asking for if not some hot pics?"

"Claire, if I had wanted to see hot pictures of the Captain, I wouldn't have asked his sister for them. I would have taken them myself in the locker room." He grinned mischievously at her expression. "Also, I remember that the one I called pretty in that email was you, not Chris. What did you think this last night was, by the way?" A frown ran over his face.

The redhead smiled shyly.

"I'm still not sure what last night was." Her honesty made him smirk mischievously.

"Well, if you don't know, we will have to repeat it." He said before he could think about it.

Anxiously hoping Claire wouldn't feel offended, he stopped talking. Had he just suggested they should have sex again? He felt like hitting his head against the counter for a while, just to see if anything would fix itself inside his head. She was Chris' little sister, for God's sake. However, Claire took it with humor, rolling her eyes as she laughed.

"I might have gotten a little rusty in social relationships over the time," she replied head-shaking and turned her attention back to the bowl, "Well, I'm glad you're not into my brother. As I said, he's…in a complicated situation."

Piers frowned a bit.

"Complicated?"

Claire had to bite her tongue. This was dangerous. She surely shouldn't be talking about her brother's relationships to one of his men. Evasively, she shook her head.

"I might tell you another day."

Piers understood. It hadn't been professional of him to ask her about her brother's feelings, though he already imagined how complicated Chris' love life had to be. Although no one ever confirmed that he and Jill Valentine were anything beyond friends, one simply had to notice how good they looked together and how much chemistry they had. Nothing more than partners? Maybe on the outside. Anyway, perhaps Claire would tell him otherwise someday, when they would meet again.

Meeting again? A very alluring idea.

They finished their breakfast chatting about how bioterror and someone called Chris Redfield messed with their lives currently, and Piers noticed, again, how comfortable he felt around the redhead. When Claire got up and walked to the door, the man followed her.

"Thanks a lot for breakfast and bed and…" A hesitant smile popped onto her lips. "Everything."

"You're welcome." He replied with a grin. "I hope you enjoyed breakfast and bed and everything."

They chuckled and Piers slowly turned the key to open the door. He didn't want her to leave. Unlike all the other girls he had been with, including Amy in the last months of their working relationship, he didn't want Claire to go. After one step forward, she saw him shut the door and his eyes closed in desperation.

"Can I see you again?" He opened them and stared at her with his deep hazel look. "I mean, before you come to visit our camp next time, or before we run into each other casually again."

Her heart pounded heavily as she assimilated the young man's question. He wanted to see her again.

"Well, there's a Terra Save fundraiser next month." She smiled curiously, lifting an eyebrow.

"I see." He nodded. "When?"

"Twenty-third."

"Oh, I won't be able to attend. We'll be in Europe for the annual meeting." He frowned, feigning disappointment.

"Alright." Claire smirked and pulled a pen and a paper from her handbag. "Don't worry. There are fundraisers every two months."

She giggled.

"The new directors love fundraisers and everything is about raising funds and  _funding raises_  now."

She wrote down a number onto the paper and handed it to Piers. "You already have my email. And this is my number. Just give me a call."

The wink she gave him with the paper was just too seductive. He couldn't help but pull her closer and place a short kiss onto her lips before he opened the door and checked the hallway for any curious eyes. Claire tried her best to avoid blushing, taking a deep breath before eventually walking out of the door. Piers watched her until the elevator doors closed and cut them out of each other's field of view.

When Piers turned away, Beth was just coming out of her apartment on the other side of the corridor. The old lady gave him an amused smirk as she waddled through the door.

"She looks nice," she stated, "Who is she?"

And Piers released his breath, so far unaware he'd been holding it. Hazel eyes darted at the neighbor as he remembered their talk from some weeks before.

"She's…my Captain's sister." He responded and shrugged.

Beth laughed, certainly remembering how Piers had claimed that being crazy over the sibling of a superior was unprofessional and not in his agenda.

Patting his shoulder, Beth walked towards the staircase. No one would ever believe that the older woman was in good enough shape to walk down the seven floors. The truth was, she also walked them up.

"Not professional, huh?" She muttered as she disappeared around the corner and left Piers laughing.

He walked back into his apartment, willing to have another bowl of cereal. Maybe he should've taken Claire to her place. Or, at least, he should've walked her to the elevator…

Nah. Claire wasn't the type of woman who needed protection and any sort of special treatment would have probably offended her. He smiled. She was indeed a bit like her brother—in a good way, of course. Piers was about to serve himself a second breakfast when his phone rang. Chris was calling and the ringtone sounded angry, as if he knew something—as if he knew  _everything_. Piers had never felt so insecure about taking a call. Shivering, he hit the answer button.

"Captain?"

"Piers. I want you at headquarters in an hour."

* * *

Claire had found herself smiling like a kid with a lollipop the whole way home. If she could tell Moira about her night with Piers, the girl would be proud of her. However, it was probably better not to scream out into the world that she'd spent the night with one of her brother's men. She searched for her keys in her handbag as she dragged her feet up the stairs. Caught between overwhelming euphoria and the question how she could have been so mindless, she laughed at herself.

"Claire!"

She hadn't even reached her floor when she heard her name. Moira stood in front of her in the corridor as astonished as she was herself.

"Uhm, hey! Good morning." Claire greeted with a smile and pushed past the girl.

"That's all? Good morning?" Moira exclaimed loudly.

She was in her weekend clothes—shorts, sneakers and a jacket—and she was carrying two paper cups of coffee. She ran past Claire and stood in front of the door to her apartment, blocking her way.

"Tell me everything! How was it? Is Lance as good as Trisha says?"

The redhead gave her friend an annoyed glance.

"He's an ass. Like a huge, fat ass full of crap. He'd expected someone younger and he didn't even care to hide it." She shrugged. "I left him at the restaurant."

"Younger? Oh, shit." Moira took a step aside when Claire threatened her with the key. A frown came to her face. "So, nothing happened?"

Claire pushed the door open and walked into her apartment.

"Nothing."

Moira followed her and pressed her back against the door until it clicked shut.

"And where have you been all night long?"

An inaudible hiss left her lips as she looked at herself. She was still wearing the same clothes as the night before, making it obvious that she hadn't slept home.

"I went to see my brother afterwards." She turned to Moira and feigned a smile. "It got late and I stayed at his place."

Moira took a sip from her coffee, handing Claire the other cup before she laughed and sat at the counter.

"You were with your brother?" She asked and Claire nodded happily. "But Barry just told me he and Chris had been in headquarters all night long."

Shit!

Claire nearly choked on her coffee. Damnit, she should have really given Chris a call to check if she could use him as an alibi. Rolling her tongue over her teeth, she turned away and just hummed.

"You must have misunderstood him," She said. "Chris was…"

"Claire! Stop lying! Where were you?" Moira jumped off her stool and sent it rumbling over the floor to the astonishment of her red-haired friend. In shock, Claire gasped a little before she looked at young Burton, speechless.

"I…" She dithered. What was she going to tell her? "I don't want to talk about it."

But little Burton wasn't that easy to satisfy.

"You…don't want to talk about it.  _Right_." She said, pausing after every word, and Claire knew that their conversation wasn't over yet. "I get it, but, Claire, you owe me an explanation. I have been looking after you more than you have yourself."

Claire hissed as her stone-cold attitude succumbed to Moira's emotional blackmailing. That little cunt had learned well.

"Moira, I…"

"Did your pansy friend make his mind up?"

Claire gasped for air before she burst into laughter.  _Pansy_  was how Moira called Leon, based on…practically everything she knew about him—from his obsession with his haircut to the fact that he hadn't tried to bang his best friend, namely Claire.

In his defense, Moira didn't know the whole truth. Thank god, Claire could give her friend a huge head shake in response.

"No! Oh my god!  _NO_!" She kept laughing and turned back to the living room. "Sorry kiddo, I can't tell you who I was with."

The younger woman sucked in a breath.

"Aha! You admit you were with someone!"

Claire hissed. Damnit! Had she forgotten that Moira was a hunter that craved gossip like a girl with PMS craved chocolate? If she wasn't careful, Burton would eventually find out everything. Before Claire could reply, Moira came running after her.

"Please, tell me you got laid!"

That slang again! You never knew what would come out of Moira's mouth. Claire rolled her eyes and huffed out a laugh.

"Yes." She shrugged, and Moira pulled her into a deep embrace.

She was such a good kid, Claire thought, even though she was a walking dictionary for swear words and bad manners.

"I knew there was still hope for you!" The dark-haired woman cried out.

She jumped up and grabbed her coffee cup again, finishing the content in one big gulp.

"I was actually on my way out already. I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but old Barry needs help with his PC. He probably thinks he's deleted the Internet again." The girl shrugged joyfully as she walked a few steps towards the door. "But we have to meet and you need to tell me how it was. In what positions you did it, if you are going to repeat, and so forth…"

She winked at Claire, who was still laughing, and turned to open the door. The redhead had barely enough time nor breath to exhale a quick  _bye_ before Moira was gone.

She finished her coffee in silence and went to the bathroom to have the needed shower. As the hot water poured down on her, thoughts and memories about the previous night came back, causing her to grab her laptop as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom. She soon found Piers on some social network. It wasn't her plan to spy on him, but his public profile was as empty as his apartment anyway. The profile picture, which hadn't been updated in four years, showed him at a poker table, revealing a full house. Cute, Claire thought and kept clicking through his personal data. She found his birth date and gasped in surprise.

He wasn't twenty. He wasn't much older than that, admittedly, but he was not the baby she'd taken him for at first.

"Twenty-five." She whispered after calculating his age and leaned back in her seat, smirking proudly. Twenty-five still was eight years younger than herself. She'd had sex with a man eight years younger than herself and he even wanted to see her again. She frowned as she wondered if there was something wrong with good Piers.

"He works for your brother, Claire," she whispered to herself, "Of course, there is something wrong with him."

* * *

His left eye twitched when a small drop of sweat dripped from his forehead right over his lid. The sun burned hot in the fucking Italian summer and that tight tension running through their unit wasn't making things any better. Another drop of sweat. Shit. What was a sniper without his eyes fully working? He clenched his teeth.

' _Focus, Nivans. The Captain counts on you.'_

The thing was huge. Probably the biggest B.O.W. he had gotten to see in all the time he had been serving the B.S.A.A. But its eye—probably the only weak point that beast had, for its body was wrapped in thick, rocky skin—was nearly impossible to see. It required a brilliant sniper—the best one Captain Redfield had ever known. It required him.

His tongue flicked over his lips in a desperate attempt to refresh them. The weather was hot and moist and it made the clothes cling to his body and almost melt into the skin. Even the heavy B.S.A.A. uniforms seemed like a soaked rag after two hours in the burning south of Europe.

His rifle drilled into his shoulder as he held it up, pointing at the B.O.W.'s eye. The seconds seemed to stretch into hours, maybe days. He didn't quite know for how long he had been pointing at the monster, trying to focus on the fucking eye, when he finally caught it. He definitely wouldn't lose it again. With a calm hand, he made his rifle follow the beast. He swallowed a bit of the thick paste his saliva had turned into, held his breath, and shot.

"He did it!" The voice of his companion sounded from the distance.

"Men, advance!" That had been Chris. His beary, authoritarian voice overflew every sound in the area, even the crash of the strong waves of the Mediterranean Sea.

As he saw the B.O.W tremble and turn, Piers got onto his feet and started sprinting over the rocks toward the target. From a different angle, he would surely be able to give it another shot. Another chance to defeat it—another chance to win the battle. About to reach the point of the rock, he threw himself onto the floor, sliding over the timeworn surface, along with dust, stones and several seaweed-like plants. The view from up there was breath-taking and he regretted not having time to enjoy it. He'd surely want to come back to that nice bay once the fight was over. But now, he needed to turn back to the task. Lowering his knee until it met the floor, he got into position again. Below, Chris and the others were getting ready to attack the heart, if one came to show. European Bravo Team was busy securing the zone to prepare the B.O.W.'s fall. Because it would soon fall —with or without core.

This time he was closer to the face and the eye. A smile rushed over his lips and his heart started beating faster, hitting hard against his ribcage. How thrilling those situations were. The need for peace and justice was, of course, the main drive to go on, but if he was completely honest, he also enjoyed the rush of blood the field caused. Adrenaline was addictive.

Again, he shot and, again, he hit the target. The beast convulsed, twitched and turned. It bent back, letting a huge, brightly shining bulge pop out of its chest.

"You were right, Captain!" One of the men exclaimed. "It has a heart indeed."

Piers clenched his teeth and targeted the core. What a disgusting part it was, covered with a shiny slime. People said that beauty lay in the heart. This wasn't something to be told about Uroboros—or a mutation of it, in this particular case. The whole creature infected with it became a horrible abomination, even uglier on the inside than on the outside. Piers shot again. However, unlike the eye, the heart was too big to even get a scratch from his bullet. What the fuck was Chris waiting for? Where were the rockets? If they didn't hurry, the beast would get to suck the sensitive core back into its body and they would have to start over again. In that precise moment, he heard projectiles swoosh up from the bottom. Two of them smashed into the bulge with fury, causing the beast to tremble. It threw its arm back to hold on to the cliff. Piers saw the fingers coming and ran. He ran as fast as he could into the direction where he had come from before, escaping the fate of becoming a Piers sandwich.

That was a common B.S.A.A. joke. Barry Burton still kept telling the story about the famous mansion incident and how he'd saved Jill Valentine's ass back then, being often reminded by the woman that she'd returned that favor and wasn't making any big deal out of it every time she came across people.

The rocks ceased under the impact of the hand and Piers had barely time to jump as he felt the ground under him crumble. With a groan, he rolled over the surface and leapt onto his feet again, watching as the cliffs vanish into the crest of the sea. The B.O.W. was bent over the remains, trying to force itself up again. Poor creature, Piers thought, pitying it. Was this bioterror shit ever going to stop?

"Fire!" Chris gave a sign from below and another rocket shot through the air, hitting the B.O.W. in the back. It growled, but its force didn't seem to dwindle. Piers knelt down again, holding his rifle ready, and the hunt for the eye started again. When the creature seemed to recover and lifted its head, he saw his chance and took it.

"Take this!"

Another shot right to the eye and the B.O.W. convulsed in pain. It covered its eye and turned back to the B.S.A.A. soldier on the ground. Perfect timing. Another projectile was fired just as the golden, slimy core shot out again. The RPG bumped into the heart and made it burst, ricocheting the creature into the cliffs. Piers stood on the top of the rocks, watching how the colossus stumbled and eventually fell to the ground.

It was over.

This was what they had come for. The recent attacks on small towns near the Italian coast had already cost the lives of too many innocent people. Locals called the B.O.W.  _Torre delle ombre_ ,  _Shadow Tower_ , as it not only brought death and destruction, it was also so huge that it shielded the ground below from sunlight. The European branch had requested North-American Alpha team's assistance in their battle as many of their own SOU and SOA were attending fights in the Middle East. Of course, director Johnson had been informed.

"Congratulations, Piers." Chris took a grip of his shoulder when the young sniper had climbed off the cliff again. "That was excellent."

"Good job, mate." Klaus Schwarzer, captain of the European Bravo team, came to shake his hand. He was a short, round man with thin hair and a scrubby blond moustache over his lip—not someone who looked like a soldier, but yet, a formerl high-ranking officer of the German Army. "It is true what Captain Redfield said. You are the best."

"We all do what we can, sir," Piers replied, "But your recognition is highly appreciated."

Schwarzer laughed and turned to Chris.

"And he even knows how to show some manners!" He exclaimed loudly. The German accent he spoke with made him sound almost angry. "You taught your men well, Redfield."

An eyebrow rose on Chris' face as he smirked proudly at Piers, exchanging amused glances with his second-in-command. As Schwarzer walked away to get a team to remove the remains of the B.O.W., Ben and Carl approached them.

"Nivans, I slowly get why you are the Captain's favorite." Carl Alfonso claimed, throwing his arm around the lieutenant, but Piers quickly pushed him away.

"How dare you speak like this in front of the Captain?" He hissed, much to the surprise of the other three men around. "Has he ever made you feel less than any other of the team?"

Chris had been about to laugh loudly and tell Alfonso in an amused tone how wrong he was. Everybody had their skills and qualities, but there was no reason to believe anyone was better than the others. However, he had been interrupted by Piers' outburst, which he observed in surprise and was a little flattered. He stopped the younger man before he'd damage Carl's pride so far than he would leave the unit. Alfonso gave him a grateful nod and moved away, followed by Ben Airhart.

"Take it easy, soldier." He told Piers with a chuckle and the younger man calmed down.

"My apologies, sir, but we are still on the field and I can't handle bullshit yet."

Chris watched him. When Piers Nivans put on his uniform, he became a different person. No wonder. Being the third or fourth generation of a military family surely came with a home led sternly by a strong hand. Chris put a had on his shoulder and smirked.

"Then let's get going so you can relax. I think you guys deserve the afternoon off now that things are under control here."

Piers nodded and moved away. The boys would be happy to have some free time to visit the closest town even though it had nearly been destroyed by the latest outrage the  _Torre delle ombre_  had shown. When he reached the unit, he grabbed Carl Alfonso's nape, turning the man towards him and making a serious face.

"Soldier, my reaction was too harsh before," he said, "That was unprofessional of me and I am sorry."

His grip tightened a little as he pulled him closer, sensing the man's nervousness. "But if I ever hear you say shit like this outside the field, you'll get hit by my pillow, understood?"

Carl relaxed and laughed a little.

"You're right, Lieutenant," he nodded, "I shouldn't have said that. It was disrespectful and I will apologize to Captain Redfield."

"Hurry up. He's just given us the afternoon off." He said with a smirk, earning the cheering of his teammates.

As Carl walked away, the other men approached Piers.

"Lieutenant, will you be joining us? There is a little tavern in the nearby town and they say they play music there every night." Andy Walker explained.

Piers couldn't hold back a smirk and nodded.

"Sure, why not."

* * *

The tavern was full of locals. They served food and drinks and a cute hourglass-shaped girl with long black hair and tanned skin was singing some Italian folklore song on a small stage. It was the kind of atmosphere the boys enjoyed after finishing a mission, although two of them, namely Tinman and Airhart, usually hadn't enough with beer and music.

"That waitress has a sweet ass." Simon pointed out even before the tiny Italian girl turned away after bringing them their drinks.

"Oh yeah! I would surely love to sniff it!" Ben replied, lifting his beer.

Andy Walker chuckled. He usually kept quiet when the two others started their competition about who could be ruder and more obscene, but he was enjoying their exchange as much as they did themselves. Carl hadn't said much since they had arrived. Piers leaned back on the wooden bench and wondered how they could behave like teenagers. Whoever heard them speak wouldn't believe that those loud kids were actually recognized B.S.A.A. Alpha team soldiers who had even gotten to meet the President of the United States on several occasions.

"Sniffing is good." It was Tinman's turn again. "But I'd rather put something else up her ass."

From there on, all kinds of offensive ideas flew over the table as the two soldiers let their imagination take hold of them. By the time Piers had finished his first beer, Ben Airhart was already drawing a picture of the waitress on a bondage bench onto a paper napkin. Admittedly, he had talent.

"You press her knees behind her head like this and, trust me, this is glory. It leaves her completely exposed. I bought mine on Amazon. Imagine how anal fucking looks and feels like on this thing."

Piers rolled his eyes. If Ben thought anyone would believe that there was still room for BDSM furniture in his tiny flat full of DC comics and video games, he had to be crazy.

"Imagine Miss Redfield on this."

Hazel eyes darted at Tinman as the blood began to boil in Piers' veins. Hopefully, the night wouldn't have to end with him punching one of his teammates in the face. Luckily, Carl had learned his lesson.

"Man," he exclaimed, punching Simon's upper arm as he looked at Piers to check his reaction, "She's the Captain's sister!"

The young lieutenant relaxed and gave Carl a short, satisfied nod. Simon, however, blew out an impatient breath.

"So what? Your morals weren't taking over when we were still talking about the waitress," he hissed, "As if any of us would ever touch her."

Damnit, that had felt weird. A shiver ran through Piers' stomach as he thought of anyone of Alpha team touching Claire—including himself. Alfonso turned to him, searching for help. It was time for him to intervene.

"Enough, Simon." His voice was low now, as it was best not to overreact. "This has nothing to do with Miss Redfield herself, but with the Captain. I won't tolerate insulting comments about anyone who is related to someone in this team, understood?"

"Exactly." They heard a loud growl behind them and nearly jumped up. "We all have to watch out for our teammates and their families."

Nobody had seen him coming, but that moment—as if he'd been waiting for a sign—Chris appeared next to them, leaving six bottles of fresh beer on the table. Silence began to reign in the round all of a sudden. The Captain's reaction seemed to indicate that he hadn't heard more than just the second part of Piers' statement as he looked around the soldiers in pride. Ben swallowed hard as he smirked at him.

"Chris, you've come."

The captain nodded before he saw the napkin under his fingers. Interestedly, he picked it up and scanned the drawing.

"Very creative." he said and turned around. "Looks suspiciously like the bartender."

He laughed and sat down, grabbing the pen from Airhart's hands. "But if I might suggest you also tie up her hands, it will make it a more complete experience for both of you."

He drew thick handcuffs around the girl's wrists. "Always with the girl's consent and a safe word, of course."

The round went silent under the words of their captain. To some of them, Chris had been more of a father than their own progenitors had ever been, and talking with him about sex positions didn't feel that good. Chris noticed their unease and laughed.

"But we can also skip this subject." He suggested, crumpling the paper napkin into a ball.

It was better if that drawing didn't stay on the table with the waitress running around the tables. Tinman sighed in relief. If Chris had heard who they'd been talking about, he was hiding it very well. Piers smirked.

"So," Chris began, smirking and taking a sip from his beer, "Could you see a little of the Italian coast this afternoon?"

That was the moment the men relaxed completely. Carl Alfonso laughed a little as he shook his head.

"We went to the tavern right after showering, Captain." He said.

"Yes, the anthropological studies are as important as landscaping." Simon added and his eyes followed the waitress that just passed by their table. The men laughed.

"Oh, Piers!" Andy Walker leaned over the table. "I forgot to tell you that I saw Amy last week. Is she alright? She seemed distraught."

Piers had been about to put the bottle down, but lifted it once more. Sure, he couldn't have avoided the subject Amy for longer? Like forever? He sighed.

"I have no idea," he responded and tried to look as uninterested as possible, "We broke up."

"What?"

"How come?"

"What happened?"

"Can I ask her out?"

That last one had been Tinman, who smiled widely as his team members bore their hard, judging glances into his face. He lifted his hands.

"Hey, hey, hey, that was a joke." He leaned forward and shoved his full beer bottle over to Piers. "Lieutenant, you can count on us. We're here for you. Take this."

Simon jumped up and pulled Carl Alfonso after him. "And we're buying you a hooker tonight." At those words, Andy and Ben followed them curiously.

"Don't you…!" Piers yelled after them before he dropped against the backrest again as he saw that they were just ordering a round of shots at the counter. Fatigue spread through his body. The past days had been long, hot and exhausting, testing all their forces and willpower. When he opened his eyes again a second later, Chris was staring at him.

"I always thought you two were happy." He said. "I'm sorry to hear that you've decided you weren't. Weren't you going to get married?"

Piers chuckled. Yeah, that had indeed been something they had discussed some time before.

"We had just talked about it once, but that was all."

"I guess that explains why you've been so tense the past days."

His eyes darted at Chris. Tense? Had he really been tense? The sheer thought was already annoying enough, but the fact that Chris believed it was because of Amy made it worse. Amy had been gone for months.  _Months_! How could her ghost still be bothering him?

"I'm alright, sir."

Piers shook his head. No, it wasn't Amy. The reason of his tension had to be something else. Chris smirked at the bottle that was dangling between two of his fingers.

"Well," the Captain cleared his throat, "It seems that stable relationships aren't for people like us. They want to make you believe it's the schedules, that they can't live with the fear of losing a loved person, but that's bullshit."

Piers' eyes jumped to Chris as he recognized statements and explanations. The captain was staring at the beer in his hand.

"They can't understand. Even if you decide you will never tell them what you are fighting exactly." He clicked his tongue. "You can make them believe you're just after the people who pull the strings, but it won't erase that look from your face. Only they can see it. The one you get when you kill your first zombie."

Yeah, Piers knew. During his first mission with the B.S.A.A., they had come across some terrifying B.O.W.s—some as hard to watch as to kill—but it hadn't been until their second assignment that he had found the zombies and something had clicked inside of him. The zombies, with their human faces, their heads, their arms and legs, their mouths, made it evident that they weren't only fighting monsters made on a petri dish. They were killing what had once been people. He sighed as Chris kept speaking.

"It saddens me to see you guys like this. I wish I could have spared you the loneliness." His look drove to the four men at the bar who were shamelessly flirting with the unwilling bartender. "Because those outside the battle will never be able to understand."

Never.

_Aren't there any women in your line of work?_

Piers recalled Beth's question and thought of Claire. Yes, there were women in the battle. Strong, amazing women who were willing to sacrifice their happiness, freedom and even life, to protect others. Piers wondered if Claire had that look on her face as well—the one that said,  _'You're marked till eternity_.'

"It's the life we chose, Captain." Piers said, shrugging, and regretted his words as a sad expression covered Chris' face. His captain had never really chosen the fight, but had been dragged into bioterrorism by a higher force.

"And a part of me is happy you did, as we really need good soldiers like you. I am proud of every one of you and the way we work together." He nodded sadly. "You know, you can count on your teammates, including me. We're there if you ever need anything."

Chris patted his shoulder in a fatherly manner and destroyed him with it. Piers looked at his Captain as the regret started kicking his guts. That man trusted him. He counted on him. He treated his men like family and he cared for the well-being of every one of them. Chris was the best leader anyone could wish for and how did he pay it back? By banging his sister behind his back and even asking her if he could see her again?

That was the real reason why he had been so tense the previous days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to [irithyll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irithyll), who made this chapter (and the others) much more enjoyable.


	5. The thrill of the forbidden

"Fundraisers, huh? I still remember when we weren't enough people in the B.S.A.A. and I had to take care of those myself." Jill was reveling in memories. "I hated them!"

Claire laughed and pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"So do I. It's not about the party itself, but about the attendees."

She sighed. The dress she'd just pulled out of the wardrobe was as wrinkled as an overbaked potato and Claire let out a defeated huff as she threw it over her shoulder onto the bed.

"It's a pity we depend on donations coming from despicable people like Jay Eccleston."

"Don't worry, I'm sure it will be fun to see how Barry's kid handles them." Jill laughed through the line. "You'll have a great time."

However, Claire blew out a disappointed breath.

"Nah! Moira isn't coming. She's been sent to Kijuju to check on the supplies there. So it's just me and my other thirty colleagues."

"Only thirty? You're fucked!" The blonde laughed out loud sarcastically. "Had you told me about it, I would have come with you. Now it's a little too late for that, admittedly."

Claire laughed and clicked her tongue at her friend's offer.

"That's nice Jill, but not necessary. You have enough work to do with the supervision of everything now that Chris is in Europe."

She turned and cursed. Half her wardrobe was thrown onto her floor and her room looked like it belonged to a teenager who was casually getting ready for a party.

"What? No, no. Chris has been back for five days already." Jill's bright voice expressed surprise. "Hasn't he told you?"

Claire held a breath as the news sunk in. Chris was back already and hadn't told her? That happened more often than one would imagine, admittedly, but what shook her a little more was the fact that certain soldier of his Alpha Team hadn't tried to make any contact. Claire feigned a light-hearted laugh.

"Oh, he's never been good with phones, you know." She giggled as she pulled out a black business suit and inspected it. She could ask Jill what happened. "And that annual meeting they had to attend?"

The blonde on the other end of the line winced.

"Cancelled. European branch has too many troops abroad."

"I see." Hiding her disappointment as best as she could, Claire left the suit on her bed and chose a white shirt for underneath. "I might give him a call tomorrow. Now I have to get ready. Take care, Jill. Talk to you soon."

"Have fun, sweetheart." And Jill hung up.

Claire took up the outfit and walked towards the bathroom to take a shower. Five days. She had known Chris and Alpha team had been called to assist the European branch in some missions, so she hadn't expected to hear from Nivans under any circumstances, but now they were back. Five days wasn't that long, was it? If Chris was always busy, his men had surely a lot of work to do as well...but was there really no time for a short text message or an email? Perhaps he had lost interest in seeing her again.

Bad luck. However, it was probably the best for all of them—including Chris. Claire had a quick look into the mirror, turning to get a better look at every important spot and angle. She still looked attractive, didn't she? There were one or two wrinkles here and there and some spots had been slightly higher, tighter or shinier in the past, but she certainly looked good for her age. Jill was in better shape, for sure, but it was mostly a result of Wesker's experiments on her and Claire wouldn't have wanted to swap places.

She gave the mirror a sarcastic glance.

"You're just trying to bring me down." She turned and stepped into the shower. "But I'm as hot as I always was. Maybe even more."

And if Piers Nivans didn't agree, she surely wouldn't cry over him.

No matter how much she'd loved his back.

* * *

"I assure you, Mister Eccleston, that every dollar of your donation will be spent entirely on the new camp in India."

Claire's eyes shot through the round of business directors, led by the infamous Mister Eccleston of Eccleston Enterprises, who were questioning Terra Save's current strategies.

"I understand that you'd have liked to see the model for the camp. I would have loved to show it to you as well, but logistical issues didn't let us make it on time."

Shrugging slightly, she smiled apologetically at the men.

"But you can find all the information in the dossier we handed out at the beginning of the event. Once the model is ready, it will be exposed in the main hall of the Terra Save headquarters."

Giving the men a short wink, she added, "Of course, you will be the first ones to know when it can be visited."

She could practically hear the men's brains work as they considered what other excuses they could come up with to avoid making a donation. Wealthy businessmen from all across the country came running to attend Terra Save's fundraisers whenever they got an invitation to do so—mostly because of the catering. Surely, the event usually was a big success. In her first years on the NGO, when she'd been part of the PR department, Claire had made a couple of suggestions that had been ridiculed at first, but were shown to be a good idea to attract those people who could actually make the counter rise noticeably; however, those who had the most money to spend were also the hardest to convince.

Eccleston was the worst of them, as he never gave out a single dollar without assuring it would, somehow, roll back in later. When he had complained about the lack of a proper 3D model of the camp Terra Save was building in India, the other men of his kind had soon jumped onto his train. Admittedly, the missing model had been a failure, but without a proper leader, the PR department had run panickily through the organization of the event. It was a miracle that everything else had worked as planned.

Soft music was playing in the background as Claire stared at the people in front of her. Terra Save depended on their help. Although the NGO received recurrent donations from private people, those amounts were never enough to build survivor camps where they were needed. After discussing tightly with the man to his left, Eccleston turned back to her. Claire swallowed.

"Miss Redfield," he said as he thumbed over his beard, "I am, as usual, impressed by your work. It's needless to say that Terra Save is doing a very important job in the world."

Claire breathed in deeply. That didn't sound bad at all, but Eccleston surely wouldn't give up that easily.

"Although our cooperation with you surely adds some extra value to our company, I'm afraid I cannot give you as much as previous years. How about the half?"

Claire felt her stomach turn. Half of the donation was still an important amount of money and they would surely find a good use for it, but the new project in India needed more than just the usual investment. It was the biggest one Terra Save had ever done and, even though the construction hadn't even begun, it had already swallowed three years of hard work. Claire sighed. That had been a hard blow, but she wouldn't shed a tear.

"Mister Eccleston, I understand that your priority is your company and your employees. I wish I could make you change your mind about the donation, of course, as we need the support of important enterprises like you, but we are incredibly grateful for any help." She stretched out her hand and shook Mister Eccleston's. "As every dollar counts."

Someone cleared their throat behind the men.

"That's true!"

Eccleston and his fellows, one more perplexed than the other, turned around, opening the way to the person who had spoken. Claire's eyes widened as she saw the young man that appeared in her sight.

"Mister Nivans," she said, smiling invitingly, "What a surprise."

She looked around at the other men and kept speaking.

"Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Piers Nivans. He works for the North-American branch of the B.S.A.A., in the same unit as my dear brother, Captain Redfield."

Wowed, she smiled at the young soldier as the other men inspected him. He was in quite casual clothes —black shoes, jeans and white shirt—but he looked elegant.

And very, very sexy. Claire smirked.

"That's correct. And let me tell you that Terra Save's help is doing an amazing job out there." Piers nodded and pulled out a small booklet from his pockets. "That's why I want to make a donation."

Claire's face began to glow brightly as she saw Piers fill out a check.

"And here, gentlemen, we have been given a lesson of selflessness."

She paused on purpose to give her former sentence more power and importance. Piers threw an amused look at her as he slowly separated the check from the book.

"Lieutenant Nivans risks his life constantly in the fight against bioterror and yet, he wants to help Terra Save with a donation. It is admirable how much he's willing to do for the war against bioterrorism."

She took the check from Piers' hands with a thankful nod.

"Even if it's just with a small donation of…" Her heart seemed to stop when she saw the amount, "...fifteen thousand dollars."

It was a real check, filled in with the most beautiful handwriting she'd ever seen in a man. Claire looked up.

The men around them made sounds of admiration—one or two even clapped. Claire let her eyes met Piers' in a warm, thankful glance. The young soldier replied with a smile before Eccleston approached him.

"Lieutenant," the man said as he patted his shoulder, "That is very impressive, but why would you give so much money when you are already fighting in those wars?"

Piers watched him attentively. He was a man in his fifties in a greyish suit and black shirt. He smelled like old whiskey and cigars and he seemed to exhale dollar notes when he so much as yawned. His moustache was perfectly trimmed. Piers cleared his throat again.

"Mister…"

"Eccleston."

"Mister Eccleston," he repeated, "Have you ever come across a hundred-feet B.O.W. covered in stone skin? One that walks over the field and destroys everything in its war path?"

The man shook his head, perhaps even a little ashamed.

"Or a Licker? A zombie, perhaps?"

More headshakes.

"I see. Well, I have. Alpha team runs into those creatures every day while on the field."

He made a dramatic pause.

"I can assure you, nothing changes your life as much as watching a zombie eat a living person. Nothing. It's the smell of rotten flesh that stings your nose and stays there for days. It's the certainty that those things used to be people themselves. We know how to fight them. We speak with bullets. But, when everything is over, do you know who is taking care of what remains? Who cleans the zone and helps those who survived? Those who lost everything but their lives? Which, admittedly, is pretty much."

He smirked and turned to Claire, who was smiling softly.

"That's Terra Save. They supply the zones with all needed resources. Medicines, food, shelter and protection from new outbreaks. They are the healers that stay when the fight is over and, I promise you, they do an incredible job." He laughed a laughter filled with regret. "Once the fight is over, it's hard to leave the zone, but knowing Terra Save is there makes it easier."

Claire stared, astonished as the young soldier spoke. All the businessmen who had listened to him with attention and embarrassment were now turning back to her.

"Count on my usual donation, Miss Redfield. Thank you for the work you are doing!" One said.

"I will check my accounts, but I can probably increase my annual rate." Another added.

The last one who turned back to her was Mister Eccleston and he pulled out a business card.

"Miss Redfield. I hope this will give Eccleston Enterprises some good publicity."

At the redhead's eager nod, the man handed her the card.

"This is my phone number. I want you to tell me whenever you need money urgently. I will see what I can do."

A smile bloomed under the moustache. It was something Claire had never seen in the man.

"Also, you will get the same donation as last year, plus a monthly rate I will decide upon tomorrow."

He offered her his hand and she shook it.

"Good job, Miss Redfield," he laughed warmly as he and the other men walked away, "I'm curious to see that model you are preparing for us."

Claire couldn't quite believe how quickly the men's positions had changed under the influence of Piers' stories. Giving him a wide, sincere smile, she walked towards him.

"Hello," she greeted while laughing, "And thank you so much. You just did my job better than I could have."

Piers watched her and chuckled. Several days had passed since he'd returned from Italy, where he'd found out that regret was gnawing him, and he had come to the party to apologize to her and tell her that there would be no  _again_. However, the closer Claire came, the more he realized that he had been looking forward to seeing her again. She was in a dark business suit with a white blouse underneath. Little make up, no jewelry except for a thin golden chain with a tiny moon-shaped pendant on it, and her shiny, red hair framing her face delicately and brushing her shoulders. Her perfume was sweet with a hint of leather. From the right angle— _his_  angle—one had a nice sight of her cleavage, but his eyes stuck on her lips. Full and with a slight shimmer of rose, they smiled invitingly at him.

"You know that's not true." He said and fidgeted a little.

It was crazy how nervous he was. Claire smiled widely at him as he spoke.

"Nobody does your job better than you. I just had the chance to help you fight monsters. That's my job as a soldier." His voice had become barely a whisper, making Claire giggle.

They stood still for a second or two, looking into each other's eyes and not knowing exactly what to say. It didn't feel natural to interrupt that moment of silent intimacy. Claire was the first one to regain speech.

"Well, thank you, again." She lifted the check in her hands. "I'll tear this later when I'm alone, okay?"

Piers grimaced in confusion.

"Why would you do that? Use it for the camp."

Claire just laughed, tilted her head and watched him. How could he be so serious about giving that much money to the NGO? What a sweet boy.

"I appreciate that, Piers, but I know my brother's paycheck, and I don't think yours is any bigger." She laughed shyly. "You need your money."

Piers looked around and laughed whole-heartedly. Claire was surely used to trying to get tons of donations from those wealthy business guys, but when someone else would do her that favor, she'd resist. He turned back to her and exhaled.

"Claire, remember the apartment no B.S.A.A. soldier could possibly pay for?"

The redhead blinked at him and nodded.

"Yes."

"And what did I tell you about it?"

She narrowed her eyes as she tried to recall.

"That it's your family's?"

"Exactly! And it's just one of seven my family owns. Along with our main property, two vacation houses and a ranch in Montana." He laughed again and Claire held the check up again.

"You saying that this is actually your daddy's money?" She laughed and he fidgeted.

"You caught me." He gave her the loveliest bratty smirk she'd ever seen. It looked so good on him. Claire laughed. "More or less. This comes from my part of my granddad's last will."

She nodded in understanding, but didn't understand much anyway. Even if Piers had enough of it, why would he spend his money on a cause he was already fighting for so bravely? She smirked.

"I can't accept th..." But Piers shushed her with a wave of his hand.

"It's okay, Claire. I'm sure Terra Save will make good use of it."

She looked at him in disbelief. What a wonderful man he was. He hadn't only saved her in her task to convince the tight-fisted business men, but he was also giving fifteen thousand from his private bank account to Terra Save. She had been right about him. Chris had taught him well.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He responded and she smiled once more.

The music was turned down as one of the girls from the PR department called the Terra Save directors onto the stage so they could present the common guidelines for the upcoming twelve months. Claire gasped a little. She surely had twenty minutes before anyone would claim her again. Her hand reached for Piers' and pulled him after her.

"Come with me," she said, "As you have made such a generous donation, I want to show you something."

"What?" Claire giggled at Piers' panicking expression, although a little disappointed.

"Don't worry, soldier. It's not what you think."

* * *

He had followed Claire into the corridors behind the reception hall. The Terra Save fundraiser was held on the main floor of the building where their headquarters were also located; however, the offices lay in the upper floors. Claire had pulled him into the nearest elevator where they were currently waiting to reach their destination. Yes, he had believed she was suggesting something not suitable for work. What else should he expect given the darkness of the corridors they ran along?

He had come to tell her they couldn't meet again if it wasn't for professional reasons.

Although, that was, perhaps, a little exaggerated. They could still be friends, couldn't they? But did friends disappear together into empty rooms at parties? Claire turned to a door and pulled out a set of keys. Piers stood next to her and had an even more ample view of her cleavage. He turned his head away. Damnit!

She was Chris' sister and he was picturing her strapped onto one of those BDSM benches Airhart said he had in his wardrobe of an apartment.

"So what are you going to show me exactly?" He asked smugly, leaning against the wall next to the door. Claire giggled.

"It's definitely not what you think," she replied and turned her head to him,"So calm down. I'll behave."

Those words didn't particularly relax his nerves. He followed Claire into the pitch-black room and waited for the redhead to light it up. Something clicked and a warm light shone onto a large work table in the middle of the room. He sucked in a breath and approached it.

"Is this the famous 3D model of the camp in India?" He asked, inspecting the detailed representation of Terra Save's recent project. Claire hummed affirmingly.

"It is," she responded and pointed towards one of the building blocks on the right edge of the construction, "But someone sent the wrong plans to the designers and this warehouse should be bigger."

She shrugged.

"The PR department is currently headless and the organization of an event like this is stressful for all of them. Nobody can blame them for the mistake, but we can't present a model of something that is not going to look like the end result at all." Claire smiled at Piers. "But I wanted to show it to you at least."

Piers eyed her. There was a shine on Claire's face that conveyed how proud she was of her colleagues and the whole organization. They all loved their job, that much he could see. The model was impressive. It showed a complete town with streets, residential buildings and parks. He couldn't help but smile as he watched the small miniature kids playing on a playground in front of what looked like a school.

"How many people can find shelter here?" He asked.

"There's room for a thousand families, which makes about three thousand five hundred people," Claire explained proudly, "Plus the Terra Save employees and volunteers who will stay in missions of three months." She moved her finger to a residential building near the warehouse she'd shown before. "Here."

Piers blew out an impressed breath.

"Wow! Three thousand people," he repeated, "That's as big as a small town!"

Claire giggled.

"A very small town, yes, but it's still the biggest project we've ever been after. This point has been chosen very carefully. It can take in survivors from the most affected and poor zones around and they can stay there while their homes are being rebuilt." She sighed sadly. "It's all we can do for those who have lost everything."

Piers smiled regretfully. All that help and effort wouldn't be needed if greedy terrorists would just stop playing with humanity. In most cases, they did it for money. What a useless fight. But one thing was clear. As long as there was bioterror, there would also be organizations and companies like the B.S.A.A. and Terra Save fighting for peace and life.

"What's that?" Piers pointed at a large building close to the school and Claire nodded as if she had been waiting for him to ask.

"Workshops." She explained proudly. "We have observed deterioration of mental health in survivors. People lose everything—their families, their houses, their jobs. You can't just put them into a home, give them food and expect them to be fine. Psychological attention is a must, of course, but so is occupation. When people feel needed and keep themselves busy, their levels of satisfaction increase. Also, they meet other survivors while they don't just speak about bioterror, which also helps."

She smirked.

"Those workshops will be occupied by companies that will give the survivors the chance to work." She blew out a breath. "Of course, as you may imagine, this is a problematic issue. We need to find companies who would like to invest in survivor work without making it look like they're exploiting them."

The young man smiled again.

"You are doing a wonderful job, Claire." He said.

"It would be nothing without yours." Her warm look hit him.

"Oh, before I forget." She grabbed some documents and walked towards him, standing right next to the soldier.

"This is the official dossier we give to all attendees and donors." She said, giggling as she handed him the papers.

"Thank you." Piers took the information, and flicked briefly through the papers before he turned back to Claire. "By the way, I wanted to apologize for not giving you a call earlier."

"It's alright," she said, "I know you are busy. I heard terrifying stories about Italy. Did everything go well?"

Piers looked at her and nodded. No sighing, no yelling, no disappointed comments. Claire surely knew what it meant to fight bioterror, but to him, it was still hard to believe that a woman would not complain about his job. He smiled at her. Claire was so close now that he couldn't concentrate on anything else but her presence beside him. She smelled good—very feminine, but strong at once. Her eyes glowed brightly in the low light and her skin looked peach-smooth.

He wanted to touch her, kiss her and feel her once more. Carefully turning his head a little further, he faced her now. Claire seemed to gasp a little in expectation as he looked into her eyes—bright blue as the sky, but as deep as the sea. She smiled at him with her rose-colored lips as his eyes quickly dropped to check if he could still see into her cleavage. He could.

But he wanted to see so much more. Claire seemed to turn her face a little more toward his and Piers took his chance to raise his hand. With the touch of a feather, the back of his fingers caressed softly over her cheek. Claire closed her eyes and inhaled. The need for her became painful in every limb, every spot of his body. He watched her breathe through parted lips until his mouth dropped to kiss her.

The sensation was marvelous and the silence around them let him hear every move they made. Claire put one arm around his torso and pushed their bodies together. She felt warm and soft against him and he cupped her cheek as he let his lips work over hers. He opened his mouth to her, he opened hers to him and he dove his tongue into her. Claire licked over it with soft strokes.

She could tell that he had been full of doubt when he'd come to see her. It wasn't bad, given the circumstances. Chris was an imposing human being and no soldier should risk his position that easily just to make out with their Captain's sister. However, Piers was brave enough, and there they stood, mouths glued together and arms slung around each other. She didn't want it to end. Their lips parted, but they didn't pull back. After short gasps for air, Claire opened her mouth again, catching his lip between hers and licking over it softly. Piers moaned. He moaned for her and all the doubt had been forgotten.

His hand let go of her face and traveled down her body. He wanted to feel her again—every bit of her. She was simply perfect with her red hair and tiny waist. When he reached the right spot, he gently grabbed her butt, making her chuckle against his lips. She had to notice how hard he was growing, as well. All he wanted was to lose himself inside her.

Unfortunately, a loud noise interrupted them.

Claire opened her eyes, a little shocked, while Piers had kept his shut. Their arms still clung to each other, not wanting this moment to end.

"What was that?" Piers whispered, a little frustrated, into Claire's ear. The woman laughed shortly.

"The folder," she replied and Piers opened his eyes again, "You dropped it."

Shit.

"I'm sorry." He said and he meant it, even for the file itself. Kneeling down, he took it up, holding it discreetly in front of his groin as he stood in front of Claire, rewarding her with a bright smile. "I guess you have to…"

She nodded.

"Get back to that boring party, yes." Biting her lip, she gave him an apologetic chuckle. "I'm sorry I don't have more time."

"There's a right time for everything, isn't there?" Piers shrugged slightly and cursed himself inwardly as he'd just used a statement of Chris Redfield's. Claire had noticed, naturally, and laughed a little.

"Yes, there is."

"So, how about dinner? Tomorrow, maybe?" He gave her a seductive smirk and nearly killed her with it. He seemed to be sure. He wanted to go on a date with her. Claire laughed.

"Tomorrow is good. Do you like Mexican? I know a wonderful little restaurant."

Piers nodded smirking.

"Okay, shall I pick you up? At seven?"

Claire smirked.

"Okay, yes. I would text you my address, but I don't have your number."

Her eyes widened into a feigned innocent look. How cute she was. Piers laughed.

"You will have it by the end of this party, I promise."

* * *

Right after they had returned to the party, Piers left and Claire could keep doing her job, talking to business people, explaining plans and presenting numbers. After the last presentation, she considered her shift over and gladly accepted the glass of champagne a coworker handed her.

"Claire, you are my hero!" Terra Save's head secretary, Lindsay Adams, yelled. "Eccleston was talking about donating a monthly rate from now on. You must have really impressed him. Congrats!"

Claire laughed and dropped into the armchair next to her coworker.

"Admittedly, I had help," she confessed, "One of my brother's men was nice enough to share stories about his job." She grimaced sassily. "And I think Mister Eccleston and company might have gotten a guilty conscience."

Lindsay laughed and leaned forward.

"Really? That worked?" She shrugged. "So, maybe we should invite the B.S.A.A. over from now on?"

Claire giggled. She herself had always thought that they could organize common fundraisers so they could save money. Every donor would then decide which organization their money would go to.

"That's not a bad idea, Lindsay."

She stopped talking as her phone beeped. It was a text message from a number that wasn't in her directory.

_Can't wait to see you tomorrow. Have a good night, Miss Redfield._


	6. Questions and answers

Claire lived in a multicultural district of the city, not far away from Chris' place, as Piers didn't fail to notice. Shouts in different languages and accents were recklessly shot along the staircase from one floor to another and all kinds of spicy mist filled the air. A young couple was making out on the floor where Claire lived, not paying much attention to their surroundings. He smirked, thinking how he and the redhead would end that night, and rang the doorbell.

"I know, Chris, but I can't come with you."

Claire opened the door with a wink. She was on the phone with Chris it seemed, and she gave him a sign to come in and be quiet.

"I'm still busy planning my next trip to India."

He looked around the place. It was small but cozy with yellow walls full of photographs of all sizes, materials and colors, and beautiful ceramic decor articles she'd surely brought home from her trips. Claire herself was in dark pants and a white tank top.

"Hello," she whispered to Piers and smiled shyly before turning her attention back to the phone.

"What? Oh, my pizza just arrived."

She gave him an apologetic shrug and Piers proceeded to have a closer look at the photographs on her shelves and walls. Most of them were pictures of Chris and herself. Jill Valentine was in some too, and even Barry Burton. Most of the other people were strangers to him, though. One of the bigger pictures showed Claire next to a cute blonde girl. Although both women were smiling, there lay a strange sadness on their faces.

"I know, I love you too. Take care." Claire eventually hung up and looked at Piers.

"I'm so sorry. He hadn't called me since you all returned from Italy and now he wanted to make up for keeping me waiting." She eyed him with an analytical smile. "You look good tonight."

"Thank you, you too."

That was an understatement. She looked gorgeous in her tiny tank top that stretched over the perfect roundness of her breasts. He could barely wait to finish dinner and peel her clothes off little by little, but, so far, she was just putting more clothes on.

"Ready? We're going to a nice Mexican restaurant," Claire said as she pulled on a red jacket and grabbed her keys, "I'm sure you'll love it."

* * *

Claire whistled in admiration when she spotted the shining Audi TT parked around the corner. Piers laughed before he unlocked the car and they jumped into the front seats where the redhead grazed her hand over the smooth leather that coated most of the inside equipment.

"This is a nice car," she whispered, impressed as Piers chuckled, giving her a short  _thank you_  in response, "Let me guess. It's your daddy's."

Now the soldier laughed out loud and let his head drop forward in defeat.

"In this particular case…" He shrugged, shaking his head.

Admittedly, given the origin of his apartment and the check he'd handed her the night before, it was easy to believe that the vehicle belonged to his family, too.

"No. It's mine."

Claire lifted her brows in surprise.

"So, you like sports cars, huh?"

"I like speed," he confessed, scratching his head as Claire looked back at him, "I have a Ducati as well."

A spark of excitement glowed in the redhead's eyes.

"You own a bike?"

He laughed again as he turned the key and the engine began to purr smoothly, blowing an expression of delight onto Claire's face.

"Actually, I own two or three."

Claire, far from any judgement, leaned back in the seat and gave him an impressed glance.

"I hadn't taken you for that kind of man, Nivans," she said in an amused tone, laughing at how shy he had turned over something so fascinating as motorbikes, "But I like it. I used to own a Harley when I was younger…I mean, not that I'm comparing a sports machine to…"

" _You_  had a Harley Davidson?"

Now it was Piers' turn to be stunned while Claire laughed whole-heartedly.

"I had a Harley Davidson!" She exclaimed. "It was a gift from Chris for my eighteenth birthday. I even used to be in a biker gang in college."

"You're kidding, right?" Piers barely found a word to say at the recent revelation. Claire was becoming more interesting every time they met.

"I'm not." She said and smirked sadly. "But that's over now. I haven't ridden a bike in fifteen years."

"What happened? Don't you have your Harley anymore?" Piers asked, almost concerned about the integrity of the bike. Claire chuckled. She'd better solve the mystery before he'd start to believe she'd wrecked her bike. Claire Redfield had never wrecked any vehicle.

"I left it in Raccoon City."

The young man's eyes widened in shock.

"No fucking way!"

A sad smirk spread over the redhead's face as she took a deep breath.

"I know, right? I cried all night long. Poor Leon believed I had PTSD or something, but let's talk about something happier." She waved the thought goodbye and looked at her watch instead. "Oh, we're late. You take this street and then turn left at the third traffic light."

Piers chuckled as he put the vehicle in gear and followed Claire's instructions.

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"And when I woke up, I found that I had been kidnapped. Again! And that I had been brought to an island in the middle of nowhere.  _Again_!"

Claire gestured a lot as she told Piers about her several experiences with bioterror and the young man listened to her stories with interest and attention. Chris never told them anything about his past and Claire was a natural born storyteller.

"And it had been Alex Wesker's doing, hadn't it?" He asked, taking a bite of his taco.

Claire rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, she wanted to do some mind transfer or whatever, and live on in the body of a ten-year-old." She was currently drowning a couple of crunchy tortilla chips in guacamole.

"Seven Terra Save employees were taken to that island. Five of them died there." Claire grimaced a bit. "Luckily, the asshole that betrayed us all and brought us there is one of them."

"Neil Fisher?" Piers asked with narrowed eyes and Claire nodded, huffing out a laugh.

"You might have heard stories," she whispered and shrugged regretfully, "They're true. I mean, most of the ones I heard over the past months are." She rolled her eyes again, Piers narrowed his.

"I remember Chris saying you two were a couple."

Claire sucked in some air and propped her chin in her hand.

"Well, look at that! That one is not true!" She laughed. "But what am I expecting from someone who hasn't been in a serious relationship in fifteen years?"

A headshake followed as she looked down and attacked the guacamole again.

"No, that was nothing serious. It was…easy and comfortable. He worked a lot; I worked a lot. We used to do it in his office."

Piers couldn't hold back a nervous chuckle. He wasn't sure why, but something about Claire confirming her affair with Neil Fisher bothered him.

"So, you're the kind of naughty girl who has sex at work?" Claire mirrored his amused glance.

"It used to happen very late at night, so no sane person would call that  _work_ anymore. I'm not proud of it, though—mostly because of who it happened with." She shrugged. "Or because of how much it really affected me. I should have known better."

Piers had a sip of wine to moisten his dry throat before he started to speak.

"We all have done things we're not proud of, Claire," he mumbled, "Especially when it comes to feelings. Myself, I got out of a relationship some weeks ago."

He sighed.

"That's the official version. Unofficially, I haven't seen or spoken to her since Christmas."

Claire listened attentively.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. Thanks." Piers nodded. "She was spending the holidays with her family. The point is that I should have known that she had no intention to come back when she stopped taking my phone calls, but, even so, I thought it was a good idea to ask her if she wanted to marry me."

Claire gasped a little as she heard his story.

"Oh."

Piers laughed darkly.

"She had always complained that I wouldn't commit so I believed it was what she actually wanted. I got her a ring and…I know that doesn't sound very romantic, but I sent her a message. Since she wouldn't take my calls and I was too afraid I'd find her with someone else to just drive to her house, I sent her my marriage proposal in a message. I know she read it." He bit his lip.

"Did she reply?" Claire asked, a little anxious to hear the response. Piers shook his head.

"No," he huffed out a laugh. "That was probably the dumbest thing I ever did. And, let me tell you, I don't usually act like a madman."

He laughed.

"I guess the circumstances required it." Claire shrugged timidly and looked down. "How long were you two a couple?"

"Four years." He said, grimacing in regret. "She's the little sister of one of my best childhood friends."

Claire giggled a bit, having to bite her tongue to refrain from asking him if he had a thing for little sisters.

"Their father and mine have known each other since they were kids, too." He sighed as he flushed down his food with a sip of wine. "I think we were meant to fail from the very beginning. She is a good girl, but we had no chemistry and we just got pushed into this relationship by our families."

Claire nodded slightly as she listened to his story.

"They must have been very disappointed when you broke up."

Piers rolled his eyes.

"My family is always disappointed." He said, laughing. "I am the sixth generation of a military pedigree. There isn't much I can do without pissing someone off."

They laughed.

"My father was a lieutenant colonel, my grandfather was a lieutenant colonel, my great grandfather was a lieutenant colonel. I don't remember what ranks my previous ancestors were, but probably lieutenant colonels, too." He shook his head. "All of them died on the field, except for my father, who just lost a leg."

"Ouch!" Claire yelped, holding back a chuckle as she wondered how bold it was to offend the family pride of a soldier. "What a shame for the family."

Luckily, Piers laughed.

"Absolutely. He tried to commit suicide once or twice, but my mother had removed all the bullets from his pistols as she'd expected him to do something stupid."

Piers laughed whole-heartedly before continuing.

"I know that sounds heartless. Please don't misunderstand. I love my father, but he has been torturing me with his rules and appearances for years. I was never asked whether I wanted to join the army or not. I just had to. I was told what to do in my free time and who to spend it with. You should have seen him when I told him I'd leave the army and enlist in the B.S.A.A. instead. The one thing that kept him from kicking me out of the family was the fact that he himself had failed his name before."

"That's pretty sad." Claire mumbled, dipping the last tortilla chip back into the guacamole. Piers shrugged.

"That's nothing," he insisted while laughing, "It can be even more ridiculous. You should know that Nivans men only make boys. One male heir per generation to be precise. It lies in our nature."

He spoke with feigned excitement and pride, "This means that, if I ever have a daughter, she won't be accepted in the family as being biologically mine."

Claire's eyes widened in astonishment.

"Oh my god, what a prehistoric point of view!" She yelped. "How have you turned out so normal?"

The young man shrugged slightly.

"I'm surprised, too."

Claire didn't really know how they had ended up speaking about children and sex in the office on their first official date, but it felt natural to share those kind of things with Piers. She would have expected men of his age to be less open to private talks—or even to be afraid of them—but he proved to be the mature kind of twenty-five-year-old. He was funny and kind and he didn't judge her for making tons of awful choices in her life. At least, not until dessert.

"You seriously want the blueberry pie?" He asked in shock as the waiter left with their last order.

"It's delicious. You should taste it."

Claire pouted at the young man, who shook his head in a ridiculing way.

"Please," he began, "This is a Mexican restaurant. Why would I have blueberry pie here? I can have blueberry pie elsewhere."

Claire shrugged.

"At the Thai restaurant on the other side of the street, perhaps?" Her chiding glance scanned his expression. "Don't ruin this, Nivans. My blueberry pie is supposed to be just my first dessert tonight."

He smiled at her and stopped arguing.

"If the lady wants blueberry pie, she gets blueberry pie." They laughed at his sudden change of mind until Claire took her purse and got up.

"If you excuse me a second, I'll be right back." After giving him a short wink, she walked to the restrooms, giving Piers the chance to enjoy the sight of her rear.

He thought she had the loveliest heart-shaped ass he'd ever seen and that he couldn't wait to peel those skin-tight pants off her ass and endless legs and replace them with his hands and mouth. He chuckled at his indecent thoughts about the redhead. Sure, he was looking forward to taking her home and fucking her senseless, but he had found the evening to be so entertaining that he wouldn't have minded hearing her blabber about bioterrorism for a couple more hours. He and Claire had chemistry, clearly, and they'd proven to work in bed as well as outside of it.

The only problem was…

"Piers!"

His train of thought was interrupted by someone calling his name. He nearly choked on the last drop of wine when he saw who was standing next to him.

* * *

One last look into the mirror and she was ready for whatever was about to come. Her light make-up was still in place, her hair swept playfully over her shoulders, and her clothes were still straight and fitted perfectly—and she couldn't wait for Piers to mess them all up. The night was promising and she mentally checked all the places of her apartment where she'd always wanted to have sex. She could totally fuck him in the kitchen—if they even got that far. Oh, what naughty thoughts she had. She gave herself an amusedly chiding glance through the glass and turned back to the door, stopping immediately in the door frame as she caught sight of the man and woman standing next to Piers.

" _Chris_." She hissed and closed the door until only one slim gap remained to permit her to peek into the main hall and towards the table. Her brother had come with Jill.

"Watching the match, huh?" She mumbled, recalling the plans Chris had mentioned he had for the night. "I always knew you're not into sports."

The sigh of disappointment came out on its own.

Chris knew how to mess up her plans.

* * *

"I'm really sorry to hear that your date had to leave." Jill said, impatiently tapping her fingers onto the table. "Girls don't have manners these days."

Piers laughed, his gaze shifting nervously between his Captain, Jill Valentine, and the restroom doors. He hadn't gotten the chance to warn Claire about Chris' presence and was now praying that she wouldn't just run out of the ladies' room and into her brother.

"Well, it wasn't like we had much in common anyway." Piers shrugged a shoulder, acting as disappointed as he could.

The story about the girl that had gotten the rescue call right after ordering dessert had seemed embarrassing enough not to make Chris think he could've made it up.

"At least I had a fantastic taco."

The Captain nodded, making a face of pleasure.

"Oh, yes, the food is fantastic here. I love this place."

Jill winked amusedly at her ex-partner as Chris began to name all the tasty dishes they served in that place, nodding agreeingly every now and then. Piers just watched the two in surprise. It seemed that Claire had brought him to a restaurant the Redfields visited frequently. The uneasy conversation went on until the waiter brought the desserts.

"We have the blueberry pie for the lady and flan for the gentleman. Enjoy."

Piers sucked in a breath as the old man brought the plates and all the attention was drawn to the blueberry pie. Claire had made sure to order the dessert with just the right number of extra wishes—vanilla ice-cream and banana slices— to have her name written all over it.

"Uhm, the lady isn't having the pie anymore. Can you box it up for me, please?" He quickly asked the waiter and got a confused nod in response. "I mean, just the pie."

Chris was frowning amusedly as the waiter carried away the dessert.

"I wouldn't have believed there was someone else in this world who wants their blueberry pie with ice-cream and banana." He laughed, rolling his eyes as he turned to Jill. "Claire always orders the same here."

Piers laughed nervously at Chris' comment, feeling the sweat run down his lower back as the waiter brought the box.

"Really? I was surprised, too, but she said it's delicious." He shrugged with theatrical disappointment. "At least, that's what I think she was saying before she took the call about her sick grandmother."

"You know…" Jill smiled at him; her whole expression bathed in pity. "We were just going to have dinner. Wouldn't you want to join us, Nivans? At least until you finish your meal."

"Uhm..." The young soldier turned to his Captain, asking for some kind of advice—or for help, maybe. He was sure they just meant well, but he couldn't just stay there with his superiors when Claire Redfield was waiting for him to become her second dessert. No, he definitely didn't want to join them, but how was he going to get out of this?

"That's very nice, but I really don't wan-"

"Yes, Piers, please join us." Chris interrupted and flagged down the waiter. "It would be nice."

"This way, you can give your version of Italy." Jill's sarcastic look traveled to Chris. "As your Captain tends to exaggerate."

Great, now it wasn't dessert anymore. Now, it was work and he couldn't just skip work, could he? Piers sighed as the argument between his Captain and Jill Valentine went on.

"Oh, come on. You read my reports. What makes you think I'm exaggerating?" Chris replied, slightly offended before looking back at Piers. "Please, Piers, join us so you can tell the lady that I don't exaggerate anything."

Piers chuckled. He had no other choice but to do as Chris and Jill had asked. Accepting the invitation with a thankful nod, he looked into the direction of the restroom, hoping he could see Claire and give her a sign. Luckily, the waiter led them to a more hidden spot in the room, so neither Jill nor Chris noticed when Claire dashed out of the restaurant as soon as she could—remaining unseen.

* * *

Once settled in her favorite spot on the couch with a beer in one hand, remote in the other, and her arm slung around a bag of potato chips, Claire was certain nobody would ever make her get up again. Damn Chris! Couldn't he just go through the world without fucking with his sister's sex life?

She threw a quick glance at her phone as she skipped the channels to avoid the nasty late-night commercials. Still no message from Piers. Flushing down her anger and some potato chip pieces with a generous gulp of beer, she made herself comfortable in the fluffy cushions. She'd probably have to wait a little longer for him to follow her. Chris had gotten Piers to join him and Jill so it wouldn't look like they were on a date. Claire sighed.

"Nice try, Redfield, but the rumors have been running for years. You can't fool anybody."

And now her brother's unofficial date with his hot coworker had ruined  _her_  unofficial date with his second-in-command. Damnit! Going out together was probably a bad idea, as they wouldn't be able to justify their meeting in any way. With Neil, things had been slightly easier, although after catching them together for the fourth or fifth time, even her socially retarded brother had understood that they were not just discussing work-related stuff.

She stuffed some more snacks into her mouth.

Maybe it was the best for all of them. If they kept their encounters to themselves and the bedroom—or maybe the kitchen—it would not only save them from prying eyes, but also from unwanted feelings and dreams of hope and impossible romances. It was fairly impossible for them to be together and she was certain Piers wasn't looking for anything serious with his Captain's sister.

Right when she wanted to push her hand back into the bag of potato chips, the doorbell rang. Claire sent beer and snacks flying through the room as she leaped onto her feet and sprinted to the door.

"Your first dessert, Miss Redfield." Piers greeted her with a smug smirk on his full lips and a plastic clamshell-box with the supposedly delicious content resting in his palm. She grabbed the box with one hand and his collar with the other, pulling his face down to hers as she made him stumble into her apartment.

"Fuck the first dessert," She whispered against his lips and sat the box onto the nearby table, "I'm in the mood for the second one now."

Surprised, at first, by the sudden drive the redhead showed, Piers couldn't do anything but obey when Claire stripped off his olive-green jacket and jerked him closer—so hard that she somehow trapped herself between his strong body and the yellow wall of her apartment. He chuckled against her lips and cupped her jaw in two hands, turning her head to just the right angle to feast freely on her mouth. She gasped into his kiss and palpated his strong chest through the shirt, curious fingers running all around his torso, searching indiscreetly for some more flesh and muscle to grope.

Piers broke their kiss when Claire rolled his shirt up and over his head, blowing out a delightful breath at his sight. He grinned sheepishly and began to squat down in slow motion as his lips explored Claire's body. Suckling softly on her chin, kissing a line down her neck and leaving gentle bite marks on the skin that covered her collarbone, he was rewarded with the sweetest of moans from her. When his hands found a place to stay on her thighs, he pulled her into his grip and pressed her back ungently against the wall.

Claire's fingers raked through his hair and stared at his face. Oh, those eyes! He looked at her with those wonderful hazel eyes of his and she wished she could lose herself in them, but right now it was time  _he_  lost a part of himself in  _her_. Legs hooked around Piers' hips, she brought her mouth down to his again. His erection was pressing against her as a warning—or perhaps as a promise.

"Bedroom?" he panted and Claire nodded eagerly, pointing at the door to their right.

"That way."

Another hungry smile and a nod later, he carried her into the bedroom. One of Claire's arms slung tightly around him and the other searched unsuccessfully for the light switch as they staggered into the dark room. Once Claire's back met the mattress, their hands were all over each other again. As Piers slowly pushed his hand under Claire's tank top and caressed the skin of her belly, the redhead began to pull hastily on the hem of the shirt. They moaned, they laughed, and, somehow, they managed to send the garment flying to the floor before Piers climbed onto her. He caught her lips again before his hands caressed over her waist, belly and breasts, soon freeing the latter from the straps and cups of the bra. Claire shrieked in surprise as the soldier flicked his tongue over one of her nipples, sucking on the nub until it was swollen. Teeth digging into her lower lip, she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Yes."

Piers chuckled. Claire stretched and curled under him, surrendering to pleasure. He went further down, sliding his tongue over her abdomen, kissing her belly button and stealing another moan from the redhead under him. Agile fingers undid the upper button and zipper of Claire's dark pants and slowly started pulling on the waistband. His eyes shot up to her face. Claire was watching him from the shadows of the night, panting and with a wide, encouraging smile on her lips, and Piers began to carefully peel the pants and her dark gray, silken panties off her quivering body.

And there she lay again; naked, beautiful and waiting for him to touch her. He observed her for a moment, wondering if he'd ever found anything so irresistibly enchanting as nude Claire Redfield under him. The redhead's eyebrows jumped up into a hungry, expectant expression.

"What are you waiting for? Don't tell me you're having second thoughts." She grinned—a little naughtily, a little afraid—and rolled onto her knees, crawling over the mattress until she had him in her reach.

Slinging her arms around his neck, she brought her lips back to his and let them melt into another hungry kiss. Eyes closed, Piers chuckled into her mouth and both of them dropped onto the bed again. He pulled back, cupped her jaw with both hands and blew out a breath.

"No second thoughts. You're just so fucking beautiful." He whispered and made her laugh hesitantly. He was beautiful, too, she thought, and he was currently so hard for her that her spot watered in arousal.

"Come in." She whispered with a sultry smirk and watched his eyes light up in expectation.

The young man reached for his back pocket and pulled out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth while Claire did her best to push and kick down his pants. He kissed her mouth again and, after rolling the condom on, he guided himself into her.

And the world seemed to stand still.

"Oh, god. Yes!"

Piers grunted as he began to move inside her—slowly, at first, but increasing the pace and strength with every thrust. Sliding his hands up her body, he lifted her arms and pinned them down to the mattress behind her head, taking the chance to kiss her neck. Claire moaned and turned her face to him. Eyes met in the weak halo of the city lights in a look full of desire. They smiled brightly at each other before they joined their mouths again, searching for each other's inner soul behind their lips and tongues.

Claire freed her hands and looped both of her arms around the strong torso of the young man. She explored his skin, the feel of his muscles underneath and how they moved and shifted as he plunged into her with pride and fury. He was so full of energy, so strong and so, so hard—only for her. The sheer thought sent shivers through her whole body and she couldn't stop herself from giggling happily.

Piers laughed, a little breathlessly, and bent down to kiss her mouth once more. The screams of pleasure she sent into the night when his right hand moved down to her clit made him smirk in excitement.

"Yes, right there!" She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the pleasure of having Piers on, over and inside her.

Her hand reached for the headboard and held on to it, offering her whole self to the soldier who was taking such good care of her. His moans and chuckles mixed up with the sweet sound of his dick thrusting into her and involved all her other senses. He lifted one of her legs and sharpened the angle.

He felt the familiar wave of heat run through his body, threatening to end their doing. He wasn't sure how long he would be able—or willing—to hold back his orgasm, but he wanted Claire to finish first. Slowing down the pace of thrusts, he let his fingers work on her clit and leaned down to caress her breasts again. Claire squealed under him, arching her back as her hands seemed to pull herself closer to the headboard.

"Oh, god, Piers, yes!"

Her toes curled in pleasure as Piers increased the pace. He drove into her sensitive wetness and rode her right through her orgasm until she stopped crying his name into the night. He caught her lips again, kissing her violently as he grunted and told her—with three last, intense thrusts into her heat—that he had finished, too.

* * *

They clung to each other as they recovered their breath, covered in sweat and other fluids. Claire thumbed over Piers' cheek, feeling the hint of stubble under her fingertips. He smiled at her, looping his arm around her waist, and nuzzled her neck until she laughed. He still couldn't believe how comfortable he felt around the redhead and he wished he could box up a piece of that moment like it was leftover pie. Claire dropped her head onto his shoulder, panting in exhaustion. Her knees were trembling and it was probably the best feeling she'd ever had. She turned to Piers, who looked at her with the same tired expression she was expecting on her own face.

"Wow!" His fingers rose to fondle across Claire's hairline as the redhead slung her arm around his torso.

"Wow." She repeated his words and pressed a tiny kiss onto his pectoral. "That's what I call dessert."

They laughed together, slowly understanding how exhaustion was taking over, attracting them both to the darkness of dreams.

"And I thought Chris had ruined it all." Claire whispered softly, still resisting to sleep.

Piers chuckled in response.

"Oh yeah! Worst timing ever." He cleared his throat and licked his lips. "But I admit it was funny to see them outside of the office. They act very differently."

Claire huffed out a ridiculing laugh.

"Like a couple married for fifty years! I know!" She hissed and turned in Piers' grip—enough to make their eyes meet. "Do they know…?"

"About this? Nothing, of course!" His lip twitched a little. "I mean, we didn't speak about it but…"

"But it's better if we keep this a secret. I agree." She sighed. A serious expression marred her face. "And maybe we should keep our meetings to private places, too, don't you think?"

A little doubtful, Piers smirked at her in the dark shade the night brought along and nodded eventually. Claire didn't want Chris to know about their meetings. It was probably the best for all of them.

"Okay."

However, this wasn't how he had imagined the night to end.


	7. Shampoo and other misunderstandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **March 2020 update: I forgot to thank my dear[Corpasite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corpasite) for helping me out with the talk between Chris and Barry. If you enjoy Cleon, go and read his works because he has amazing ideas.**

There was nothing comparable to waking up to the sight of a hot girl in underwear in your bedroom; especially if said girl was Claire Redfield. Every move of hers was as enthralling as it was natural and he had found himself enchanted by that soft sway of her hips and the honeylike melody she hummed whenever she believed herself to be unwatched. Piers rolled onto his elbow and watched how the redhead pulled her panties in place, fingers tugging playfully on the elastic until it rested perfectly on her hip bone. He got up and crawled out of the bed, right in time to help Claire with the hooks of her bra.

"Thank you," she whispered and inhaled deeply as Piers removed damp hair strands from her neck and began to kiss the sensitive zone. "And good morning."

"You're welcome." Nuzzling her nape, he slung his arms around her abdomen and pushed himself against her from behind, pressing his groin against her bare lower back.

They had been seeing each other for five and a half weeks and they had found out how good their meetings did them both, even though they were limited to private places where they wouldn't run the risk of getting caught by coworkers, friends, family or any other acquaintances. There was no good reason for sister and lieutenant of the same man to meet for dinner in their free time and Chris would immediately draw his own conclusions if he found out. So they met in either Piers' or Claire's apartment, late at night and without a regular schedule. Not that regular was, in any way, possible for either of them. It was just sex; wild, unrestrained and without commitment, and it helped them both get rid of the tension brought by their jobs. It was all they needed and they knew that they wouldn't ask for anything else from the other.

"I love the smell of my shampoo on you."

Claire turned her head enough to rub her cheek against his front and chuckled.

"Let's just hope Chris doesn't notice I smell like one of his men when we meet for breakfast."

Piers turned his face up and placed a gentle kiss on her cheekbone.

"I think you're overestimating his sense of smell." He laughed and let go of the redhead to collect her shirt from the floor and hand it to her. "But you can leave a bottle of your shampoo here, if you want."

Once Claire had managed to push her head through the collar of the shirt, she turned to face the young man in a combination of curiosity and skepticism.

"Shampoo? Isn't that too much commitment?"

Piers' eyebrows shot up in surprise. Had he accidentally asked her to move in, get married and have kids? He couldn't stop a cheeky smirk from growing all over his face.

"Are you afraid of commitment?"

The redhead replied with a loud laugh as she proceeded to towel her hair dry.

"I'm not afraid of anything," she proclaimed, "I just want to keep things as simple and casual as possible."

Shrugging his shoulders, Piers turned back to the bed, where his boxer briefs peeked out from between the sheets.

"It's just shampoo. Where's the commitment in shampoo?" He laughed as he pulled up the recently recovered underwear. "I'm just saying that you can leave some stuff here instead of carrying it with you and risking to forget it at home. Shampoo, a toothbrush…" He laughed. "Pads or tampons or…"

"I don't come over while I need those." Claire covered her grimace with a laugh and tried to tame her wet red mane into a ponytail until her look drove to Piers' reflection in the mirror. He'd taken a seat on the edge of the mattress and was staring at her.

"Right." His lip twitched and followed his risen eyebrows into a gesture of something Claire couldn't quite decipher. Regardless of whether it was disappointment or offense, it made her feel unexpectedly guilty and she turned to face him, blowing a soft sigh into the room as her head dropped to the right.

"Don't get me wrong, please." She murmured and walked to the other side of the bed in search for her pants and jacket. "I love spending time with you, but I need to draw a clear line between this and my other life. There's no need to make this complicated. We get along well, we have fun together. Let's just keep it like it is, okay?"

She didn't want to make things complicated. He got that, but having some useful items in reach when they needed them wasn't really making things complicated—rather the opposite. After pulling up her pants and successfully pushing her both arms into the wrinkled sleeves of her jacket, Claire turned back to Piers, who took the chance to reach for her hand.

"I like being with you." He mouthed his attempt at persuasion and the redhead's look softened.

"I like it, too." Taking his both hands in hers, she sank onto the bed with a regretful sigh on her lips. "We are having such a great time together and I really wish we could go on like this forever, but I think we both know that this is never going to become anything serious, don't we?"

The pause she made practically forced him to nod in agreement. Claire's lip twitched into a sad smirk before she continued.

"Yeah. So, let's just keep things as casual as possible, okay? No shampoo, no meetings outside…" She pecked his cheek and got up again. "Also, don't underestimate my brother's inopportunity. Trust me! If I left my shampoo here, he would come around for a surprise visit and ask to use your bathroom."

Piers rolled his eyes in feigned hilarity. All the efforts Claire was making not to leave a simple bottle of her shampoo at his place just proved that she was lying and that she was indeed afraid of commitment—or simply of getting hurt. That was understandable, too, as she had often mentioned how much she regretted having let Neil Fisher get too close to her, but every time she seemed to compare him to that traitorous bastard, Piers felt personally attacked. It wasn't only because he knew for sure that he himself would never even think about cooperating with a terrorist, but also because Claire had become much more important to him than either of them would like to admit. Funny, smart and humane, she was different from all the women he had met before. Claire loved bikes and nature, she was a wonderful cook and she filled every room she walked into with warmth and laughter. Also, there was the tiny, but not unimportant, detail that he and Claire worked marvelously in bed—or wherever they decided to do it.

He had wanted to invite her to a trip to a beautiful little cabin his family owned and which they hadn't used ever since his father had lost his leg, but their recent conversation made him change his mind about the offer. It was a pity, because the tiny village in the mountains was the perfect place to act like normal people and go outside without having to fear to run into someone they knew. Also, the cabin the Nivans family owned was so enormous that they could have spent the entire weekend inside without even getting the feeling of  _staying inside_.

But that, too, was probably too much commitment for Claire.

* * *

Piers was called into Chris' office on Friday noon, right before the lunch break. It wasn't common that they talked about their next moves that time of the day, and he feared that something really urgent was causing Chris to change their schedule.

After the proper knock on the door, he was asked into the office, where he found his Captain loudly discussing something with Barry Burton. The usually so jaunty older man had come to New York to pay his old friend a visit, but the expression on his bearded face looked rather preoccupied.

"Trust me, Chris, you can't be prepared enough."

Chris, who was scratching his chin in boredom, blew out a breath with a roll of his eyes.

"I didn't say it's too much preparation." He said with an apologetic wave of his hand. "I said you must be crazy if you're really believing that shit! Doomsday prepping? You know that zombies are real, don't you? Why would you waste your time worrying about flooding and earthquakes?"

Barry leaned back in his chair, lecturing his old friend with a lifted finger.

"Chris, you shouldn't poke fun...if the world ends, you'll definitely be knocking at my goddamn door begging me to keep your ass safe."

As he advanced towards the desk, Piers wondered if it was really the best time to talk to his Captain, but neither of the two men seemed really displeased by his presence. Chris looked rather relieved and Barry Burton greeted him with a fatherly smirk

"What about you, Nivans? A young man like you must have heard about what's going to happen at the end of this year."

Piers' eyebrows shot up in bafflement as he searched for the right way to tell Burton that he himself had rejected all superstitious beliefs in response to the annoying persistence of his deeply catholic grandmother. Before he could reply, though, Chris grunted.

"Don't you dare respond to that." The Alpha team Captain shook his head and smirked at Barry. "Take the old shelves from the warehouse for your bunker, Burton, but now let's talk about Edonia."

Piers inhaled in concern as the reason for their meeting was revealed. Pulling the nearest chair closer he sank onto it and confirmed his full attention with a dark look.

"What happened in Edonia? Do we have confirmation of bioweapon use in their civil war?"

Barry Burton, who had stopped grinning, was now placing several documents onto Chris' desk. Pictures of different people, former Edonian politicians among them, reports and maps showed quickly that something bad was going on in the East-European country.

Barry cleared his throat before he handed Piers the last file.

"Nothing has been confirmed yet." He said. "We have been watching them for some time now, because of how close they are to Eastern Slav Republic. However, Intelligence has just found several connections to Umbrella and daughter companies among their monarch's closest men. We have to be prepared for anything."

Piers nodded as he flew over the different pictures. Umbrella had been a very powerful pharmaceutical company around the globe and connections to different governments were nothing unusual, but the higher the rank the former Umbrella employee now had in the country, the more dangerous they were. And if there was more than just one man implicated, they could expect anything to happen.

"European branch is already sending S.O.A. there to check the situation  _in situ_ ," Chris replied. "But we might have to intervene if the use of B.O.W.s is confirmed."

Barry sighed.

"I am in contact with people in the zone, too. If anyone plans on using fucking bioweapons in Edonia, we will be the first ones to know," he explained and Piers hummed in response.

"So, now we have to get ready for a possible flight to Edonia."

"Exactly," Chris said with a nod. "We will discuss everything over the following days, but we need to start increasing our training and be in constant contact with the European and Middle East branches. A civil war is nothing like one of the minor outbreaks we have been handling in the recent past. This can affect the whole country." He raised his finger and pointed at his temple. "We have to be mentally prepared as well."

Piers nodded, sitting up straight and turning to face Chris.

"You can count on Alpha Team, Captain."

In that moment, the door flew open and a loud  _fuck, fuck, fuck_  was hissed into the office. A second later, someone placed a large box onto Chris' desk and made the walls rumble.

"You gotta be kidding me, Barry." The young woman who'd put the box down so ungently was staring at the older man in anger. She was young, short and very thin, with black hair that fell in straight strands over her ears and brushed her shoulders. Her black shirt, jeans and white sneakers were completely covered in dust and a cloud of particles involved her with every move she made. The girl looked familiar and Piers wondered where he had seen her before. "Just a couple of reports? You have horrible memory, old man."

Barry smiled at the woman and shrugged.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. The last time I was here, there were only a few papers about India." He turned to face Piers. "By the way, this is Lieutenant Piers Nivans, the best sniper among Chris' men and, probably, the whole world."

Moira stopped grimacing as she turned to Piers and both eyebrows jumped up at the sight of him.

"Moira Burton, Terra Save Operative and first daughter of that old guy there." She cleaned her dusty hand on her shirt before offering it to him.

Right, Moira Burton! Piers had seen her picture in the reports about Sushestvovanie and some of the photographs in Claire's apartment, but she looked much more mature than the face on the pictures, even in the dirty, casual clothes she wore. Piers got up to greet the woman.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Burton," he said, mirroring Moira's smile as he shook her hand.

"It's a pleasure." She breathed her words a little too sensually into his face before Chris spoke up again.

"What were you searching for, Moira?" The young woman stopped staring into Piers' eyes and turned to his Captain instead.

"I have come to get some old reports on the zone in India where Terra Save is building the new camp. Barry told me it was only some papers which I could have taken out easily." She sighed and stared at the box. "Had I known this was that heavy, I wouldn't have come by foot."

Chris laughed a little, playfully tapping the tips of his index fingers together.

"I think there is another box."

Sparkling eyes hit Barry in a furious glance and Piers couldn't stop watching her. Moira was young and attractive, with silken hair and round, harmonic features that made him wonder if she was really Barry Burton's daughter.

"Well, shit the bed! Barry, you retard!" Okay, there were the genes. "How am I supposed to carry this to headquarters?"

Barry shrugged his shoulders and looked at his watch.

"Sweetheart, if you can wait a couple of hours, I will give you a ride, but first, I want to check the armory with Chris."

Piers' look jumped back at Moira, who clenched her teeth so hard her jaw seemed to be close to breaking. Her palm hit the upper side of the box on the desk and more dust flew around the office as she began shooting her fury at her father.

"What the fuck do you think I am going to do with these papers?" She yelled, much to the surprise of Piers, who would have never spoken like that to his own father, and even Chris was jumping a little in his seat. Only Barry kept quiet and smirked at his daughter as she screamed. "I have to get back to Terra Save as soon as possible. Claire asked for the documents two weeks ago."

The mention of the redhead's name brought a smirk onto Piers' face, a reaction he had caught on himself way too often over the past few weeks. His eyes averted to Chris, checking to see if his Captain had noticed the twitch of his lip. Luckily, Chris was still too baffled by young Burton's outburst to even look at him.

"I'm really sorry, Moira," Barry replied laughing loudly. "I wish I could help you, but I have work to do."

Moira sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

"It's alright," she replied and folded her hands upon the box. "I guess I will have to call a cab."

"That's not necessary!" Piers replied without thinking twice. "If you can wait ten minutes until we finish this meeting, I can help you."

Moira turned to him and smiled in excitement. Chris looked up and smirked at his second-in-command, nodding slightly.

"You can go now, Piers," he said. "Just tell the men that we will start with the intensive training tomorrow and you can all take the afternoon off."

After receiving a strong pat on the shoulder from Barry Burton, Piers lifted one of the heavy boxes and followed Moira out of the office. He couldn't quite believe how he had volunteered for this task so quickly, but he sensed that his reasons were somehow related to Claire and the fact that they hadn't spoken in days.

"So, the best sniper in the world, huh?" Moira commented as they walked through the parking garage toward Piers' car. He chuckled proudly in response.

"Your father exaggerates," he said, trying to shrug the overly flattering subject off without denying that it was indeed his field of expertise. "But I'm not entirely bad at it."

Moira laughed slightly, showing a perfect row of white teeth.

"I've never been good with rifles. I prefer small handguns." She replied, opening the trunk and placing the heavy box into it. "Admittedly, I don't have much experience with firearms anyway."

"Well, everybody has their own skills. I casually enjoy having to keep a cool head and calm hand when everything around me is burning," Piers explained, laughing as they climbed into the front seats of his Audi.

"So, you're the calm and serious guy, aren't you?" Moira turned to him and gave him a smug smirk.

"That's what people say."

The young girl fastened her seatbelt before Piers turned the key and the engine roared until the two floors of the parking garage rumbled.

"Serious is good, I guess, as long as it doesn't rule your life." She then shook her head eagerly at her own statement. "My experiences with this bioterrorism shit have made me see how much I just want to enjoy living, you know?"

Piers nodded, his view drifting to the rear-view mirror.

"Right! You were abducted to that island along with Claire, weren't you?"

Moira huffed out a laugh, obviously displeased by the memory.

"Yep! You heard about it, of course. I wouldn't have survived without Claire. She protected me and I learned a lot from her. She was lucky enough to get away after one day while I had to spend six months on that island, surrounded by infected. There was an old man who took care of me and helped me survive."

The girl sighed as she told him about her experience, a hint of grief was blown onto her face and darkened her expression.

"He was an ass, but a good one. He had been waiting for his daughter to come home and, when he found out she'd been killed, he simply gave up fighting. He died in the sewers of that island."

Piers listened to Moira's sad story. He had always put the blame on Neil Fisher, as it was well-known that he had sold his team for a Uroboros sample. Alex Wesker, though, the evil mind behind all the plan, was even worse than any puppet she could have bought herself. Whatever had happened to the people on that island, it was her fault alone.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Moira replied with a soft laugh.

"It helped me recover my relationship with Barry, so it wasn't entirely bad," she admitted. "What I want to say is that you never know when your last day will come, so believing there will be enough time for everything is no reason to postpone things you really want to do."

Piers took a deep breath, unable to push away the thought that Claire should live a little more like Moira. Maybe that way she wouldn't make so much drama out of a bottle of shampoo.

* * *

"I see," Claire muttered as she clicked through the documentations she'd just received. "Well, it's not much, but there are definitely some insights that will be helpful." Her eyes darted at the blond man on the couch in her office, who was currently busy throwing and catching a baseball repeatedly. "Say thank you to Hunnigan from me."

Leon nodded and stopped playing with the ball, rolling the object between his palms.

"So, how is your project in India going?" He leaned forward until his elbows met his knees.

"Great!" Claire clapped her hands in excitement to underline just how happy she was about their latest project. "Have you seen the 3D model in the reception hall? It will be wonderful. The donations have been increased and it looks like we don't have to struggle this time. I'll be flying to the zone on Sunday."

"That's great news. That spot needs a camp like yours," her friend replied. "So, want to have lunch with me?" Leon asked giving his watch a questioning look. "I have two hours before the meeting with the informant."

Claire chuckled and saved the document she was working on. "How are you dealing with the passive service?"

After his willful intervention in ESR and a following two-week suspension, Leon had been assigned office work and interrogation tasks, as he hadn't yet recovered from his broken ribs and contusions. As long as his physical condition didn't improve, the D.S.O. kept him tied to his punishment and ignored all his petitions to be sent back to active duty. The agent chuckled darkly at Claire's question.

"They were hesitant about giving me my gun back."

His friend replied with pitiful laughter.

"That bad, huh?" She got up and grabbed her handbag before helping Leon up. "Come on, I know a place where you'll stop thinking about harming yourself. It has the best lasagna in the whole world."

The blond chuckled and followed his friend to the door.

"Just let me visit the restroom a second."

Claire breathed in impatiently. Hadn't he had like half an hour to do so while she was checking the data Hunnigan had sent her?

"You look good. No need to check your hair every two minutes," she exclaimed, laughing at Leon, who was walking backwards into the restrooms as he gave her the finger.

When Claire turned to the front desk, she was confronted with the pleasing picture of Piers Nivans leaned against the counter next to a cardboard box. They hadn't spoken since their weird conversation about shampoo and commitment on Sunday morning, and Claire was surprised by the soldier's sudden visit.

"Lieutenant Nivans," she greeted him under the analytical glance of the receptionist. "What a surprise!"

Piers looked up and met Claire's blue eyes. Her face was marred with a nervous look that seemed to judge him for believing he could enter her territory without being punished, a thought at which he smirked sheepishly.

"Miss Redfield, good morning."

She looked beautiful, as usual. Her hair was combed back into a tight bun and a soft layer of natural makeup made her eyes shine brightly, highlighting her youthful look. She was in a white shirt and the red jacket he remembered from their first and only dinner night.

"To what do we owe the honor?" Claire smiled at him, barely paying attention to the rest of the present employees. "Is everything okay?"

Piers didn't waste time to nod her worries away and gestured towards the hallway where Moira was currently busy signing some papers.

"I'm here with Moira Burton." He explained and enjoyed the confused smirk on Claire's face a little too much before he patted the box on the desk. "I've helped her carry the reports about India."

Claire's smile turned into a frightened look as her head spun around. She ripped the box open with shaky hands and nearly let out a cry of desolation when she scanned its content.

"What? No!" She hissed as she started flicking through the papers. "Barry said it was just a couple of reports."

Piers laughed apologetically.

"He wasn't really aware of how much it was."

Claire sighed in disappointment and it seemed to Piers that the new, unexpected amount of work was ruining some of her plans. The redhead turned around when a tall, blond man appeared behind her.

"Hey," She told him and pouted. "I'm sorry, I have to skip lunch. I just got more work to do and this needs to be finished before the weekend."

The man shrugged and put a hand onto her shoulder, a touch Claire seemed pretty comfortable with, and Piers couldn't stop himself from hating the stranger instantly.

"Want me to grab lunch so you can have it here?" The man offered as he pulled on a dark leather jacket and was rewarded with a relieved and grateful nod from the redhead. So, was that the kind of man Claire was into? Guys who reeked of hair gel and aftershave and wore button shirts under leather jackets? Piers felt his blood boil when he was forced to smile at the redhead, who turned back to face him.

"Oh, excuse me. I haven't introduced you. Leon, this is Lieutenant Piers Nivans from the B.S.A.A. Alpha team. Piers, this is Leon Kennedy."

Oh! So, that was the famous Leon Kennedy, government agent, B.O.W. slayer and notorious women waster; the man whose name had been catapulted onto the Olympus of gossip among the anti-bioterror organizations by millions of stories about his conquests. The two men shook hands with restrained interest in each other. Piers tried hard not to make his anger to visible, while Leon's attitude was easy-going and self-confident.

"Alpha Team? So, you work with Chris, don't you?" The blond smirked at the younger man, who huffed out a laugh.

"That's right," he said, glimpsing at the agent through narrowed eyes. "And you're the man who killed a hundred Hunters by running them over with a car?"

Leon grimaced in feigned offence.

"Pardon me, but it was a hundred and twenty Hunters at least!" Leon laughed, Claire rolled her eyes in amusement and Piers wanted to punch the agent's stupid face. Luckily for both of them, before he could lose his temper, Leon gave his collar a tug and turned to the exit. "So, I'm off to get lunch. I'll be right back!"

Piers grit his teeth as he observed how slimily Kennedy touched Claire's shoulder once more before leaving. It was just a hint of contact, but the way the redhead's eyes seemed to shimmer when the blond gave her one of his dumb winks felt to him like it tore his bowels apart.

"Bye!" Claire smirked at Leon as the agent walked away, leaving her alone with Piers. She turned her attention to the soldier and gave him a shy glance from the corner of her eye as she pretended to be searching for some specific paper in the box. He didn't look well. Actually, he looked stressed out and pissed.

"So, how are you?" She eventually asked with care, making use of the phone call the receptionist was attending.

He nodded, avoiding eye contact with the redhead, in fear that she could see the still remaining disapproval towards Leon Kennedy in his eyes.

"I'm good. What about you? Busy with India?" When Claire nodded in response, Piers tilted his head to the side. "I see. I actually wanted to give you a call today."

Before Claire could reply with a grin, quick, light footsteps approached the front desk and interrupted their chat.

"Hey! You've already seen the mess, haven't you?" Moira greeted Claire with a pat on the shoulder and shrugged slightly at her nod. "I'm sorry. I had no idea it was that much. In Barry's defense, neither did he."

The redhead eyed the pair curiously.

"It's alright. I better stop complaining and get some work done." She said and grabbed the box. After giving Piers an apologetic shrug, she turned back to her office. "I think I will spend the whole night with this."

"I'll bring the other box in a minute." Moira exclaimed and bit her lip, waiting fearfully for the redhead's reaction. Claire turned to her in shock.

"There's another one?" She sighed so adorably that Piers nearly offered her his help with the documents. However, he quickly discarded the thought before he turned back to Moira.

"So," he said, shrugging as soon as he'd forced his attention back to the younger woman. "Mission accomplished, I guess. Now it's time for you to do your job."

Moira nodded smirking, playfully leaning against the front desk.

"Yes, I guess so. Thanks a lot, Piers. That was very nice of you."

He huffed out a laugh and scratched the back of his head.

"You're welcome. I'm always happy to help other allies."

Moira gave him another cheerful wink and turned away to dash after Claire and towards her wave of work.

* * *

"He's cute, isn't he?"

Claire had been so engrossed in her report reading that Moira's call nearly startled her to death. She looked shyly into Moira's direction and nearly choked on her nervous chuckle.

"Who? Piers? Is he?" She asked innocently and shook her head. "I don't think I ever really had a close look at him. For obvious reasons."

Moira sat on the desk next to the box and took out some of the reports, minutely organizing them in smaller stacks.

"He has the most delicious smile I've ever seen on a man." Her eyes glowed brightly as she laughed. "And he looks like he's good in bed, don't you think?"

Claire squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. How would she tell the young woman that she didn't need to suppose anything, and that she  _knew_  how good he was?

"I don't think I want to know." She forced a laugh. "He works for my brother, remember? I have to show certain respect to him."

Moira giggled, her fingers flicking through the papers and beginning to sort the documents by date.

"How well do you know him?" She asked curiously, looking at Claire until the redhead diverted her attention from her own box and stared confusedly at her friend.

"What?" She began to shake her head, pressing her lips together into an apologetic pout. "Well, we just met twice or so. Why?"

The younger woman shrugged, biting her lip to show her interest in the subject.

"I think I'll ask him out." With raised eyebrows, she waited for Claire to react to her plans, not knowing how it caused the redhead's heart to sag into her bowels. "Does he have a girlfriend? Do you know what he's into?"

The B.S.A.A.? Fast cars and bikes? Having cereal while watching old  _Friends_  episodes on a Saturday morning? Sex in the shower?

"I don't really know. We just talked about work."

Moira sat behind Claire's personal computer and opened a new tab in the browser.

"Let's see what we find about him." She whispered as she typed his name into the search engine. "Alright. Look! There's a Facebook profile. Yes, it's him."

She turned the laptop to Claire and gave her a serious glance. "No relationship status. Looks like he enjoys poker games, don't you think?"

Claire didn't think anything. Claire just wished the unpleasant conversation about Piers would end soon or Moira might eventually find out that she knew more about the soldier than she was willing to admit. Luckily, Leon was just coming back with their lunch. She sighed in relief when the blond stuck his head through the open door and wondered if Leon Kennedy's inner alarm was always set to  _right-on-time_.

* * *

"Where the fuck have you taken us, Simon?" Andy tried to yell at his comrades, drowned by the loud samba music that filled the room. Gently hypnotized by the sway of all the female hips to the exotic rhythm, it was hard for him to sound displeased though.

"It's great, isn't it?" Simon stood between a row of pub tables and the dancefloor, arms crossed. "I was told there were great sights here."

Piers stared at the overfilled dance floor in disbelief. He had agreed to have the usual Friday night beer with the boys because the following day, they'd start their intensive training and the soldiers requested a proper farewell party for their freedom, as Carl Alfonso had stated. Claire had made it clear that she'd be working all night long, so it was the best plan Piers had for that Friday anyway, but he hadn't expected Tinman to take them to a girls cave where most of the highly outnumbered men were already taking their chance to enchant the women with their moves—and drinks.

Piers sighed at his own mistake, as he should have known Tinman and his ideas after working with him for almost two years. His mistake.

"Alright, now that we're here, why don't we order something?" Ben suggested, gaining his comrades' instant approval. While he and Simon moved towards the counter, Carl, Andy and Piers took care of the hard task of finding a place to sit and talk. They seemed to be lucky that night and caught a group of girls as they left their table in the darkest corner of the pub and their seating problem was solved. The chances to have a conversation, though, weren't good.

"We should have looked for a table closer to the dancefloor!" Andy yelled in only three attempts. "We can't see anything from here and Simon's gonna be mad."

"Don't worry about him and pity the barmaid instead." Carl leaned back in his chair and gestured towards the counter where their coworker was currently keeping the young bartender busy with his talks while Ben hung on the stool next to them and gave his comrades signs of boredom from time to time.

"I'll go to the restrooms in the meantime." Piers shrugged his shoulders and got up to make his way through the massive crowd of people, most of them desperate for attention. The restrooms were empty, despite the overload of customers in the pub, and Piers finished just thirty seconds after he'd entered, bumping into a young woman on his way out.

"Oh, sorry!" The black-haired shouted as she gathered her thoughts. "I didn't… Piers?"

He looked down at the unwilling obstacle, recognizing the sly smirk he'd known just some hours before.

"Oh, Moira! What a surprise!"

The girl smirked, rolling her shoulders back into a pose that looked both flirtatious and painful.

"Yeah, I hadn't thought I'd find you in a place like this."

Piers rolled his eyes as he thought about it and eventually shook his head.

"I'm still not sure how I ended up here. I think I just blindly followed a recommendation of one of the guys." He explained. "What about you? Do you come here often?"

She smirked slyly and gestured to the counter through the open restroom door.

"A friend of mine works here. I drink for free."

The soldier nodded at her statement as he laughed, wondering if Moira had already reached the legal age to be drinking—for free or not.

"I see. That's a good reason." They laughed together. "So, have you finished all the report reading?"

Moira nodded.

"Yes!" She shouted impetuously, but soon narrowed her eyes. "Well, no. Actually, Claire is taking care of that."

Shrugging her shoulders, she giggled. "She sent everyone away."

Piers chuckled sadly at the revelation that Claire was alone in the office. Perhaps he'd send her a message later to check if she needed help or company.

"I see. Well, sometimes it's best to work alone and avoid distractions, right?"

Moira nodded.

"Exactly. Well," She said, pointing towards the toilets. "I was gonna…"

"Oh, sure!" Piers laughed and stepped aside, smiling the girl goodbye as she disappeared into the restrooms. He slowly pushed and bumped his way back to the table, right on time to welcome back his comrades and the colorful cocktails they had ordered for the team.

"That's the most girly drink I ever had." Ben yelled as he sipped his Raspberry Mojito. Andy laughed.

"It's all Simon's fault," he said, "that bartender talked him into trying ordering this sweet stuff instead of beer. And he didn't even get her number."

"Tinman, you loser! Now we all have to slurp this juicy, expensive shit. I can feel those chicks over there laughing at us." Carl complained, waving back at the two ladies who were, indeed, giggling a little too much as they stared into their direction.

"At least yours is not pink." Simon replied with a grin, gesturing to the sparkling rosé champagne with sugar hearts he had gotten for his Lieutenant. Piers just took a long sip from his champagne glass and stared into the round, as humorless as if he'd never drank anything else but pink cocktails in his whole damn life. That bubbly shit was sweet and ice cold and it went so easily down his throat that he himself was surprised by the refreshing gulp, and it wasn't like he wanted or needed to impress anyone with a dose of manliness anyway.

While the boys started their noisy routine to check and overanalyze the girls in the pub, he pulled out his phone and quickly composed a message to Claire.

"Stop texting your mom, Nivans! You scare the girls off!"

It was going to be a long night, it seemed.

* * *

The sheer amount of B.S.A.A. reports about India had been scary, but the content repeated itself throughout the documents, and so, Claire had made good progress in her reading. Once Leon had left, Moira had helped her go through most of the papers until Claire had sent the girl home to compose a summary for herself on the subject.

Her phone had been claiming attention all evening long. After endlessly long calls from Chris and then one of the directors, Claire had decided to let it die slowly. She'd left her spare charger somewhere she didn't remember—next to the main charger, probably—and now the battery was yelling for food every ten minutes. She had started to consider to just turn it off.

The sad melody of agony of her phone was interrupted by the sudden merry tone of a new message notification. Curious, she laid the current paper away and tapped onto the device, happy to find that the one who had written to her was Piers.

_I heard you are doing all the reading alone tonight. Need any help with the papers?_

A smirk blossomed on her face as she read the lines. He was simply adorable, she thought, and began to wonder how she had caught the attention of such a wonderful young man. The age difference was remarkable, after all, and Piers certainly had better things to do than hang out with his Captain's sister—especially on a Friday night. How did he even know that she was working alone? Maybe Chris had mentioned something. Claire sighed sadly, longing for the young soldier's company like a teenager in love. Although she undeniably wanted to see him again before she left for India, she needed to finish her reading first and Piers' presence would distract her more than it would be helpful. Maybe they could see each other the following day. Her tongue flicked over her lip as she thought about how to reply to the young soldier.

_You're so sweet. I can handle this, don't worry. I call you tomorrow, okay?_

Her look drifted to the half-eaten cheese pizza and the chocolate-peanut bars that were still waiting for her to devour them. She quickly typed another message.

_Also, as you might imagine, I am not really alone._

She took a picture of her dinner and sent it to Piers before getting back to her reading, unaware that her phone died for good before the attachment could be uploaded.

* * *

_Not really alone_. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Piers stared confusedly at his phone as he read Claire's line over and over again, hoping he would soon come up with a logical, innocent and kind explanation for her last message. He couldn't find any, though, and all kinds of horrible scenarios began to play vividly in his head. She was with Kennedy, wasn't she? She was alone with Kennedy in her office, at night! The last message he sent her remained unanswered, no matter how long he stared at the screen. Nervously tossing the phone onto the table, he took a deep breath and grabbed the drink with the already dissolved sugar hearts and squeezed it so hard his knuckles turned white, not caring if he might break the glass. So, that was the reason why she cared that much about commitment, as a shampoo bottle at his place would surely make her feel bonded to him while she had other options to attend. He grunted and leaned back on the bench, letting his blood boil freely in his veins together with the alcohol.

"That looks tasty!"

Piers looked up from his outrage and found Moira sitting on the bench next to him. He rolled his jaw a little, hoping not to make the girl feel as uncomfortable as she was making  _him_  currently. He shrugged his shoulders in the most exaggerated and comical way he could and sighed.

"It's good."

She smirked, gesturing to the dancefloor and his four teammates who had left him in charge of the surveillance of the drinks while they were trying their best not to frighten the young girls with their moves.

"Your friends are having fun there. Don't you dance?"

He laughed, watching the embarrassing scene from a safe distance.

"Bold of you to believe I would do any better than them." He leaned forward, as though he was about to reveal a well-kept secret. "We're trained by the same man."

Moira laughed whole-heartedly at his words while all Piers could squeeze out was a short chuckle. He wasn't really looking for small-talk, but Moira was the last person on Earth to be blamed for his bad mood and he decided not to make her feel bad for Claire's treason. Because that's how he felt—betrayed.

"I don't dance either," the girl stated, shrugging her shoulders, "I actually just came to support my friend in her first night on the job, but she's so busy I can't even speak to her."

Piers smirked.

"Unless you order something, of course!"

"Exactly! Do you want another drink?" When Piers declined gratefully, she laughed and moved a little closer to him. "So, I have to make a confession. I have been googling your name." She looked impressed at Piers, whose glance turned into an interested grimace.

"So? And what did you find out?"

As far as he knew, there wasn't much information about him available online. Ever since he had joined the B.S.A.A., he had made sure that no common civilian would stumble upon any information related to his work.

"I found your Facebook profile," she said. "You look good on that picture."

Sure. It had to be Facebook.

"Oh." He laughed a little. "I will have to make a confession, too."

Moira propped her chin in her palm and showed him her perfect row of white teeth. "What is it?"

Piers laughed.

"My ex-girlfriend created that account. I don't even know what picture we are talking about."

Moira's mouth fell open, giving her the chance to flick her tongue over her upper row of teeth. She stared perplexed at him before she burst into laughter.

"You don't know your profile pic?" Her full-throated laugh swallowed a tiny part of the loud music and Piers shook his head. "It's you at a poker table."

"Oh!" He exclaimed. "That one! Of course, she wouldn't have posted a picture of the both of us together." He looked around through narrowed eyes and laughed.

"So, are you into poker games?" Moira asked taking a sip from her beer. However, Piers clicked his tongue and shook his head with an apologetic demeanor on his face.

"Not really."

"Too bad. I thought we had found something more interesting to talk about before we get to the everlasting subject," the girl said, pouting a bit. "But, fine, let's talk about work!"

* * *

They left the pub soon afterwards, searching for a quieter place where they could talk. By the little Piers could find out about her, he could tell that Moira was a very interesting girl, and her company had somehow improved his mood that night. The oldest Burton daughter was studying politics, enjoyed extreme sports, and had a weakness for cheeseburgers. She'd shown him how vast her repertory of swear words was when another customer, who'd hit on her right in front of his eyes, had thrown his drink over her. Piers found it somehow charming. Moira was the rudest, loudest, and most foul-mouthed girl he'd ever come across—Burton style, after all—but besides the hard attitude, she was a lovely young woman with a good heart beneath a pair of breasts that had been crying for his attention all night long. The evening had been very entertaining and it was hard to tell who was enjoying whose company more.

"Oh, I had almost forgotten about your car!" Moira yelled happily as Piers opened the door for her. Instead of getting into the passenger's seat, the girl leaned against the open door and tilted her head. "Can I drive?"

He huffed out a laugh.

"No."

Moira's nose wrinkled in offense and the girl made a shrieking sound of disappointment.

"Oh, come on! I won't wreck it," she said as she walked around the car towards the driver's side, quickly typing something into her phone. "I'm not Leon Kennedy."

Piers couldn't help but grind his teeth at the mention of the agent's name, as if Moira just had punched him in the guts. He tossed her the key and grunted.

"Fine, you can drive! Slowly! And don't ever mention that guy in my presence again."

Moira, who had caught the key with one hand, stood perplexedly next to the driver's side and laughed softly.

"Handsome, funny, with a nice car and an antipathy towards Leon Kennedy?" She mused opening the door. "I think you're trying to make me fall in love with you, Piers Nivans."

Piers grimaced amusedly as he analyzed Moira's praises. Dropping next to her into the seat, he laughed softly, feeling that he had found an ally in young Burton. The girl was currently adjusting mirrors and seats to her height and angles.

"Sounds like we have one more thing in common." He fastened his seatbelt right before Moira did.

"Oh, I actually haven't really gotten the chance to know him well." She said as she listened to the sound of the engine in pleasure. "Nice…anyway, I just see how he treats the women in Terra Save and I really don't get how he's so fucking popular. I mean, he hits on everything that moves and he's not  _that_  good-looking."

Piers laughed mischievously.

"Forgive me, but that sounds a little remorseful."

The girl's questioning gaze was priceless.

"Remorse…? Oh my god! No!" She punched his upper arms a little too harshly to consider it friendly and nearly lost control over the vehicle. "Oh, sorry…please, he's so old! And Claire would rip his throat if he ever tried to get into my pants."

After recovering from the initial shock and wondering how mindless it had really been to let Moira drive his car, Piers snickered at the latest comment.

"Maybe Claire just wants him for herself." He said in a displeased tone. "They seem to get along pretty well."

Turning at a traffic light, Moira laughed out loud.

"You think so? Oh, no. They're just friends, trust me. Claire knows she deserves better and Leon..." She paused, giving Piers the chance to digest the news and understand that the redhead apparently wasn't sleeping with Kennedy.

"He's just an idiot, you know? I guess he knows that Claire wouldn't just let him fuck her and leave, so I believe he stopped trying to get her a long time ago."

A sigh of relief and guilt left his lips when Moira concluded her story. As a close friend of the redhead, Moira had to know whether she was involved with Kennedy or not, and it seemed that Piers had drawn conclusions way too quickly. The girl began to slow the car down and came to stop in front of an apartment block, and Piers' heart began to race suspiciously as he turned around and caught her shyly nibbling on the tip of her index finger.

"Oops, look at that!" Once the engine was cut, she turned to face him in her seat and gestured to the nearest building as she whispered. "I think I just took you to my place."

Piers' look shifted from the building outside to the feigned expression of innocence on Moira's face and back. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he realized that she hadn't wanted to take him to a quieter place simply to talk and he felt a little embarrassed about just how naïve he had turned over the thought of Leon Kennedy's slimy hands all over Claire. He inhaled sharply and observed the darkness of the streets through the window.

"It looks nice." He heard himself say as his breath collided with the glass. He turned back to Moira when the girl unfastened her seatbelt, his eyebrows moving up in expectation.

"Wait until you see the inside."

Piers would have replied with some cocky comment, had Moira not been faster. Before he could react, the girl's hand cupped his jaw and her lips pressed onto his with the tenderness of a bucking bull. It was just a peck, fast and passionate, and it was over before it had even really begun. Moira kept her face close to his as she thumbed over his chin.

"Wow." He whispered, a little breathlessly, as his hand began to climb up her forearm. "Are you always that straight-forward?"

Moira chuckled in response and shrugged a shoulder.

"I told you." She purred. "Life is short, so why miss the chance to get into a hot guy's pants?"

The comment left him speechless. Moira took his lack of reaction as encouragement and joined her lips with his once more, slowly beginning to caress his neck with her cold fingertips as her mouth explored his, so intensely that Piers feared he'd choke on her passionate kiss. Once the first shock was overcome, though, he gladly let the sweet hint of raspberry Chapstick and the taste of beer and peanuts enchant him. It was enough to blow every inch of willpower off his mind. So what if Claire wasn't really sleeping with that imbecile of an agent? She was still spending the night in her office with  _someone_ else and she didn't even try to hide it from him, which just demonstrated how unimportant and exchangeable he really was to her.

With that thought on his mind, Piers opened up to Moira's kiss and let her push her tongue into his mouth in search for his as he himself sank deeper into the passenger's seat. The girl was so eager and fierce that even the clumsiest of moves seemed wild and arousing and he couldn't stop his body from reacting to her. Willing to show him that her mouth wasn't only good at swearing, she started nibbling softly on his lower lip while performing skilled acrobatics to climb from the driver's side into his lap. One of two attempts later, she straddled his knee in the tiny space and Piers could freely run his hands along her athletic body. It happened automatically. Her touch triggered something inside of him he couldn't fight down and he involuntarily slung his arm around her, pulling her closer into him. Moira chuckled against his lips and took the chance to push her hand into his pants.

"Wow!" She exclaimed proudly as her fingers curled around his growing member, ripping a moan from his lips. "You have to show me what you can do with this." With those words, she grabbed the keys, pushed the door open and jumped out of the car, her hand still stuck in his underwear.

* * *

The watch said eleven-nineteen when Claire reached her apartment door and eleven twenty-one when the stubborn little demon of a key finally granted her access to her comfort zone. Shoes and jacket ended up thrown onto the floor in the hall as she stumbled towards her bedroom where the two phone chargers were waiting for her, tangled lovingly in the other's cable. Claire left her phone charging and walked into the kitchen to grab the last cup of expired yogurt and a water bottle from the refrigerator and settled on the couch in front of the TV.

The news about the possible implication of the Edonian government with Umbrella had come in during the day and had put her entire department at unease. She was about to leave for India and wouldn't be able to attend any emergency meetings personally, depending all of her choices on conversations through video calls, but Claire trusted her team and knew she could count on every one of them and their decisions. That, however, didn't make the current situation any easier.

When the yogurt cup and bottle were empty, Claire proceeded to get ready for bed. Toothbrush stuck between her teeth, she walked back into the bedroom and slipped out of shirt and pants, dropping the pieces carelessly onto the ground. The bright LED sign on her phone notified her that she'd gotten messages and she instinctively reached for the device, soon choking on the toothpaste as she read the text from Moira.

_You won't believe who I just met! Piers!_

Piers? As in Piers Nivans? Claire read the lines with an uncomfortable pressure in her chest. The excited tone of Moira's message could have made her chuckle, had it been the only thing she'd texted her that night.

_He's so cute. Let's see if I can take him home._

Claire eventually dropped onto the mattress when the final message sank in.

_OMG. He's letting me drive his car! :D_

She tapped her screen again, her heart hammering wildly in her chest as though it tried to blast through her ribcage, jump out of her body and run after Piers to punch his face and not only because he had never let  _her_  drive his stupid car. Could it be that Piers had really gone home with Moira? She opened the soldier's last message to herself.

 _'So…?'_  was all he had sent her after receiving her picture, and it made Claire wonder if he had been already too absorbed by Moira's presence to pay attention to her message. Naturally, the boy had chosen the girl over her. Moira was young, attractive and her open nature had gained her quite a reputation. People never hesitated to tag her as  _easy_  and Moira didn't care as every rumor was welcome as long as it pissed Barry off.

However, Barry would even be happy if his daughter started dating a B.S.A.A. Lieutenant, which meant that there was no reason for Moira to be with him unless she  _really_  liked him. Claire sniffed slightly, putting the phone away as she chewed on her toothbrush, nearly choking on the tears that formed behind her eyes.

Piers was with Moira, her friend and protegee. He didn't owe her faithfulness, of course, as they had both made clear that they would never get beyond the sex, but she had naively believed there were moral limits her brother's second-in-command wouldn't cross. Like fucking her friend, perhaps. Piers had to know about the long-time friendship she and Moira shared and Claire began to wonder if it was some sort of vengeance for her lack of  _commitment_ , a result of their argument about shampoo the other day.

How could he know that the bottle of shampoo was the very last of her things Neil hadn't yet removed from his apartment when she'd come back from Sushestvovanie? All the other belongings she'd kept in his apartment for the rare times they met there had been thrown carelessly into a box, reducing her whole existence in her boss's life to a bunch of useless memories he'd known he'd dispose of right after her death. She had been nothing more than a fuck toy to him when he'd sent her to the island to die. It was the imprint she had worn ever since, a mark left to remind her not to make past mistakes again.

And Piers? Piers seemed to have eventually decided that he was too good to waste his time with someone so broken. Good for him. The only real problem was that she hadn't believed that a man who respected her brother as much as Nivans would ever consider her a mere  _disposable_. It was a pity, as they had gotten along so very well.

Once tucked into her bed, Claire watched the city lights from the safety of her sheets and allowed herself to shed the burning tears. Her mind was torturing her with the mental image of Piers and Moira, and Claire caught the feeling of jealousy creeping up her body. Was it too late to claim Piers Nivans for herself?

Yes, it was, she decided and grabbed her phone once more. Before turning it off that night, she sent another message to Moira.

_Get him, girl!_

* * *

Destiny itself had wanted him to cross paths with Moira that night, of that he was sure. Instead of feeding his anger with irrational thoughts of jealousy, he'd had one of those life-changing revelations and the night had turned out to be strangely satisfying.

He pushed the door shut and leaned against it. It was too late to come back home for someone who started intense physical training the following day, and he couldn't wait to fall into the cushions after the needed shower. His hand pushed into his pockets to free them from keys, wallet and phone, when he saw the new messages he'd gotten.

One was a good night wish from Moira.

The other one was a picture of a pizza and chocolate bars he should've gotten hours before.

After staring incredulously at the picture for a minute, Piers clenched his eyes shut and slammed his head harshly against the next wall.

"You fucking idiot."


	8. Once more, with feeling

Claire was certain that time had stopped running and that her self-destructive thoughts would gawn on her until the end of her pitiful days. After tossing and turning for an hour that felt like three of them, she and her spinning mind had moved to the couch in hope that the late night TV schedule would bore her to sleep soon, but not even the 24-hour economy channel put her mind to rest. At about four in the morning she was still wide awake, paying little attention to the shit-talk of some old man about the current export policy of Bangladesh.

Admitting that even her usual self-therapy wouldn't work that night, Claire had considered giving Leon a call to see if he had gotten home well. She'd discarded the thought quickly, though. Calling him when she was impaired would inevitably backfire on her, as Leon had the gift to unintentionally reflect her darkest thoughts and leave her more scarred than before. Misery loves company, they said and it described their friendship to perfection. Also, Leon was surely not as alone as she was—lonely maybe, but not alone.

The sun eventually rose, announcing the dawning of a new day and a new chance for those who pursued one. Claire forced herself to get up and open the curtains to her balcony, her heavy gaze sweeping towards the cloudy horizon as she breathed in deeply. She was too old to cry over a boy who wasn't her boyfriend, wasn't she? There were things that needed her attention more than a kid who didn't know decency and there was no point in daydreaming about what could have been if she hadn't allowed Moira to leave the office earlier. Her teeth snapped together as the absurdity of the thought sank in. Had Moira been with her, Piers would have gone home with any other girl.

"He's not your fucking boyfriend, Claire," she hissed repeatedly at her own reflection in the window until her forehead dropped against the glass in defeat, and she slowly realized how much those words hurt. This was not about Moira or the fact that they'd been friends for a lifetime; it was about the certainty that she was not the only woman in the cute soldier's life. Oh, but what had she expected? Piers was young, good-looking, educated and wealthy, and the world was full of attractive young girls who'd be happy to please him 24/7 and who wouldn't hesitate to leave their shampoo or underwear or keys in his apartment even knowing that they might never get them back. Claire, on her end, had known she'd been playing with fire, that her damaged soul would fall for any guy who treated her fairly right, and that a bottle of shampoo wouldn't protect her from her own feelings. Now she had to clean up the mess. Claire Redfield, respected Terra Save member, survivor of Raccoon City and dedicated savior of the hopeless, was lost in love with Piers Nivans, and like so many others before him he had broken her heart before knowing he held it.

Claire eventually moved to the bedroom to dig out the suitcase from her closet. Focusing on work was the best remedy for heartaches and an effective way to keep herself from overthinking things. She'd go crazy sooner or later if she didn't stop ruminating and there was nothing she could do about the situation anyway. Even if there had ever been a chance for her to gain Piers Nivans' heart for herself, now it had definitely slipped through her hands. As a Redfield, she would always defend her pride with all needed effort, and she wouldn't let anyone change her for a friend of hers, neither Moira nor Jill. Thank god she hadn't left her shampoo at his place. One thing less to worry about.

There was no need to turn her phone back on, as Moira would give her a detailed update about her conquest soon enough. It would be a long flight to New Delhi the following day.

* * *

"Okay! You all have the new schedule. We will increase training in the next days and weeks so we can be prepared for anything. Every one of you will focus on their specific fields of action the first three hours in the morning, then we will continue with the common physical workout."

Piers listened as Chris gave the orders. Alpha and Bravo teams' schedules had been stuffed with more exercises and weaponry preparation for their yet unconfirmed upcoming task in Eastern Europe, but that was by far not enough to consider their unit prepared for an intervention in a civil war. A team belonging to their Special Tactics division and led by Jill Valentine was designing the complete strategy for their battlefront, based on every hint of intel that reached them from the European S.O.A. The blonde stood next to Chris as he spoke in his usual fatherly tone, and Piers could swear he caught her rolling her eyes when their Captain called the men by their first names. When it was her turn to speak, Valentine kept her arms crossed in front of her chest and Piers wasn't sure if it was to make herself look tougher or to keep the kids in front of her from staring at her boobs.

"Every Monday and Wednesday after lunch, you will meet with Special Tactics for new updates on B.O.W.s that have been encountered in adjacent zones and for analysis of the two sides in this civil war, what their reasons are and their Modus Operandi. As complementary training we'll all get information on the political situation in Edonia and who is playing an important role in the country. Intelligence will keep us updated about the case, so we can act as quickly as possible if European S.O.A. find any bioweapons there."

Jill spoke loud and clearly, avoiding the use of euphemisms to decorate the vital information, and she had the team's complete attention. Piers hadn't gotten to know her like this yet, and the way the blonde shifted from cordial to ice-cold within a second impressed him deeply. He had heard she'd been with Delta Force before joining S.T.A.R.S., and her stoic professionalism spoke for itself.

"Also, keep in mind that we're not fighting in their civil war," she continued her speech with contagious enthusiasm. It was clear that she lived for the cause, even though she had been forced to take a step back from the field and was just pulling the strings in the background. "No matter what we encounter there, no matter who is using bioweapons, it doesn't make us an ally of their enemy. The B.S.A.A.'s mission there is to eliminate biohazards, detain the terrorists and bioweapon dealers and to bring the innocent to safety."

Piers, as the rest of his teammates, nodded in support. Only Carl blew out a breath.

"Sure, we just take the B.O.W.s away from them and then they can keep killing each other happily with firearms."

Piers rolled his jaw. He was not in the mood for bullshit that morning and catching the dry glance Jill Valentine was launching at Chris, clearly blaming him for the impertinent behavior of his men, caused him to act.

"Bad time to develop pacifistic feelings, Alonso. You can connect with your philanthropic side after eliminating the B.O.W.s. Know your priorities, soldier. This is the B.S.A.A."

Carl began to dig in embarrassed silence as Chris' eyebrows jumped up astonishedly and Jill Valentine could barely hold back her satisfied smirk.

"That's right, men. And you should all remember this," she spoke out without hesitance and turned to Carl. "We all wish we could do more to save lives, Alonso, but don't forget that it's not our job to interfere in their politics. You're in Alpha Team because counter-bioterrorism needs skills like yours."

"Alright! You heard Agent Valentine!" Chris called out for his men. "We'll meet with her team on Monday. Until then, we'll focus on the physical training."

The team nodded and got up, while Chris became the target of Jill Valentine's bitter glances. Apparently, the blonde didn't agree entirely with her ex-partner's methods and the way he treated his team.

"I wish I could go after the responsible people before an outbreak took place," Simon hissed as he pushed the door to the locker room open. The young man had joined the B.S.A.A. because he had seen bioterrorism very closely when he'd been a kid, losing his beloved grandfather in an outbreak in a hotel complex on Hawaii. Despite his rowdy character that challenged everything and everyone he met in his professional life, Simon Tinman was a talented soldier and, once part of the force, he had become the explosives specialist for Chris' Alpha team within only two years.

"It's hard to stay here waiting for the B.O.W.s to show up."

The group nodded and hummed in agreement as they all walked after Simon into the locker room to grab their equipment for the training. Piers watched them. Yes, he would have rather arrested the Edonian monarch and his men right away, too, but they didn't have enough power to prevent. The B.S.A.A., despite being a UN-sanctioned organization and not requiring the explicit permission of the Edonian monarch to intervene, wasn't allowed to detain suspects before having found enough solid evidence against them. By the time that happened, chaos had usually been unleashed already. Their organization needed more freedom and authority around the world.

Piers' train of thought was interrupted by Simon's loud yell as the soldier threw his arm around his lieutenant's shoulder.

"Dude, you look like shit!" His laughter caught the attention of the rest of the guys, who rewarded Piers with envious grins. "But I wouldn't have wasted my time sleeping if I'd had the chance to bang that hot chick you took home."

Those words brought up too many memories and the thought of running his forearm into his dear comrade's larynx was tempting. Piers had to take a couple of breaths more than usual to fight down the need to  _silence_ him. Instead, he slammed his locker shut with such intensity it caused Simon to jump and his dog tags to clink together.

"You better take care of your own fucking issues, Tinman." He blew his breath into the older soldier's face and gained himself a look full of despise in response. Simon didn't take shit from anyone—not even his lieutenant—and Piers already pictured himself and the young man in one of those fist fights he hadn't gotten accidentally into since high school. The tension was palpable in the narrow locker room and Piers was relieved to hear Airhart's bright laughter.

"Keep dreaming, Tinman! Girls like her are out of your league!"

Simon's forehead wrinkled into a grimace as he turned and rolled his shoulders. "What the fuck do you mean? If he can get them, I can get them too. I just don't want to, because special training…"

Piers stopped paying attention as soon as he opened his locker again and found his phone inside. He'd started sending messages to Claire like a madman when he'd gotten her attachment the previous night, from good night wishes to short declaration of how much he wanted to see her. None of it was a lie. The big fat truth felt like it had been fed to him through a funnel—by Moira Burton herself. He hadn't stopped to think about it before, but the moment the girl had dropped to her knees and ripped on his belt like a thing possessed, he had known for sure that he wished she was someone else.

The disappointment was huge when he found that  _someone else_  hadn't replied to any of his texts yet and before he even knew what he was doing, he was dialing her number.

_You've reached the voicemail of Claire Redfield. I'll be out of the office until…_

With a roll of his eyes, he let his head drop against the locker as he listened to Claire's voice asking the caller to send her an email or contact Terra Save. He exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves as he wondered what her silence meant. Claire wouldn't just turn her phone off, would she? Eyes falling shut, he gulped down the knot in his throat.

Did she know how much of an idiot he had been?  _Could_ she know?

Pearls of cold sweat ran down his front and the pounding in his chest began to ache and make him dizzy. His eyes jumped to his watch and he began to count the hours he still had to bear before they were released from their training. He needed to speak to Claire as soon as possible and, knowing that he wouldn't be free until the afternoon, he gave it another desperate shot, calling her once more.

_You've reached the voicemail of Claire Redfield..._

* * *

By the time she had packed everything she needed, the suitcase exceeded the permitted weight by 10lbs. Claire sighed and pulled the damn zipper open for the fifteenth time that day, only to find that most of her luggage didn't belong to herself but to Terra Save.

"Nobody carries that many papers around, Claire," she hissed at herself and began to throw folder after folder onto the bed.

She had access to digital copies of the most important documents anyway and her secretary could surely send her the rest, if needed. Once she'd removed all the papers from her suitcase, she decided to have dinner and go to bed early, as she was meeting Moira at the airport at seven in the morning.

She hadn't thought about Piers for hours, she convinced herself as the yet empty fridge stared back at her. It would have to be takeout that night, it seemed, and it wasn't a bad choice as she deserved something excessively greasy and salty while she kept forgetting about the soldier. It would be easy, though, because it had already stopped hurting and now the only thing she needed to worry about was where to order. Claire wondered whether Thai or Chinese were best to stitch up a damaged heart.

The doorbell rang and gone was her good mood. Her eyes scanned the time on her kitchen clock as she decided that eight-thirty was way too late for someone to disturb her. Hoping that the impolite visitor would just leave as fast as they'd come, she sneaked into the hall.

It rang again. Claire blew out a breath as she considered the possibility that it was her forgettable older brother. Maybe Chris had tried to call her during the day and had now stepped by to pay her a quick visit. Maybe he had left his keys home. Tiptoes brought her closer to her front door, where the mysterious visitor was still trying to make himself noticed.

"Claire, please open," she recognized Piers' voice through the door.

Of course, it wasn't Chris. Chris ignored that there was such thing as doorbells and always knocked and yelled like he was some creepy mass murder about to slam the door down with an axe or a chainsaw. She would have died to hear her brother knock that night, because no matter what dark, frightening stories about work Chris would have come to tell her, it would have been more preferable than hearing what Piers Nivans was about to say. Her fingers raked nervously through her locks in an attempt to make herself look more refined when she slowly opened.

"Hey!" She greeted Piers with her thumb pointing towards the bedroom. "I was packing. Sorry, I didn't open earlier."

Piers was leaning against the doorframe like an abandoned puppy and the weight of the message he was about to give lay evidently on his face.

"I've been trying to reach you all day long," he muttered with that piercing stare of his. "There's something I need to tell you. It's important."

Claire felt her knees weaken and her hand curled instinctively around the handle in search for support. She had been wrong. It still hurt. Hoping that he wouldn't notice the fear in her, she forced a faint smile and angled the door open to give him access to her apartment. Claire walked into her nearby living area before the soldier even crossed the threshold, and she wondered if she was running away from him. With that nasty hint of self-consciousness she couldn't get rid of, she eventually turned to face him, inviting him to proceed as her fingers tugged on the hem of the oversized S.T.A.R.S. shirt she was wearing. She should have changed before opening the door, she thought with regret, as the fabric had turned see-through in the most compromising spots and the sleeves which used to fit her brother's enormous triceps now hung loosely around her thin arms like a shower curtain. Not the classiest outfit to wear when getting dumped, admittedly.

The scene had been playing in his head all the way from the B.S.A.A. to her apartment—a whole hour-ride of right words and explanations where everything had been easy and convincing—but now that he stood in front of her, the discussion seemed lost. Claire's posture was unusually defensive and her face had adopted an air of mistrust that seemed to say that she wanted him gone as soon as possible. Her tousled hair and the T-shirt that had doubtlessly once belonged to Chris, but which looked so much better on his sister, told him that she hadn't left her apartment that day. Even so, she looked incredibly beautiful and he was so tempted to touch her. Instead, Piers took a deep breath and stretched his tense fingers.

"There's no easy way to say this, I guess." He began his insufficiently prepared speech. "I tried to call you, but…"

"I heard you met Moira last night," Claire interrupted him hastily in an attempt to end their struggles.

Their eyes met again. Piers ran his tongue over his teeth, silently cursing Moira Burton and the moment she had come to see him, with those big puppy eyes and her sharp tongue. So, Claire already knew everything, and she probably believed he was the dumbest kid on Earth. The disappointed scoff he sent out was audible and it stood between them like a stone wall.

"I see. I hoped I could tell you myself," he said, scratching the back of his head and Claire clenched her teeth together, hoping she could keep an earnest demeanor as she saw her fears confirmed. "Claire, I'm sorry about all this but... I think I've finally figured out that I can't go on like this."

He had come to break off their whatever it was they had. Good, it was impossible to continue seeing each other anyway after what had happened between him and Moira. What a pity, though. Goodbye to all the nights of passion, sweaty sheets and mislaid underwear; to the short messages that had aroused her as much as they had made her feel embarrassed and to waking up next to those impossibly deep hazel eyes and his beautiful smile. She would miss him—no, she  _was_ missing him already—, but she simply wished that he would make it quick and leave her life the same uncontrollable and merciless way he had sneaked into it.

 _'Kiss me once more_ ,' she thought and surprised herself with it.  _'Kiss me like you used to do and go.'_

"You don't owe me any explanations or apologies, Piers," she mumbled, trying her best to remain composed despite the fact that her heart was pumping so fast that she began to see double.

Piers shrugged his shoulders and sighed, stepping a bit closer to her.

"Yes, I think I do." His eyes jumped through the room as if he hoped to find the needed words written on the wall. "Listen, Claire. I don't know what happened last night."

Leaning against the backrest of the couch to avoid collapsing, she gasped for air. If he gave her the it's-not-you-it's-me-speech, she would scream.

"Piers, please..."

However, he gave her a sign, asking her to let him proceed.

"I just know that I saw you with Kennedy and that I hated it and that I believed you were with him last night."

Claire suddenly sucked in a short stream of air. Her puzzled glance inspected Piers as he fidgeted like a little boy in front of her.

"Wait. What?" She asked doubtfully.

The young man was nervously cracking his knuckles as he spoke and Claire couldn't have been more surprised by the image. It took him a couple of deep breaths and a headshake to find his voice again.

"Moira said you weren't. She convinced me that I was being paranoid and that you were alone in the office, just like you had said." He forced a somewhat embarrassed grin as he explained his acts, but his demeanor made it evident that he wasn't as ashamed of himself as he was annoyed by the thought that she could have been with someone else. Before she could chide him for his jealousy, she found herself squealing in surprise at how close he was all of a sudden.

"But I know now that I can't stand the thought that you could be with anyone else. Kennedy or Fisher or whoever," he said with a twitch of his lip. "I'm going to be selfish. I want you for myself alone."

Claire couldn't give him any other response but a baffled blink and, before she could reply with words, Piers had already pulled her into his embrace, pressing her against his firm chest. His hand cupped her jaw and turned her mouth towards his. He kissed her just the way she had secretly asked for earlier, and Claire was too confused and bewildered to offer resistance. For a moment, she allowed her eyes to fall shut and let him claim her mouth, desperate to be touched.

A sound of need slipped off her lips when Piers caught her chin with a gentleness she wasn't used to, and Claire's hands began to climb up his torso in search for the stability of his toned shoulders to keep herself on her feet. The scent of his shampoo was besotting, and she wished she could lose herself in his arms for the rest of the night, just like they'd used to do. However, when Piers' tongue stroked softly over her lower lip and nearly pried her mouth open, Claire pushed him back with a determined press.

"Sorry, ugh, I…" she stuttered, her voice nothing but a pitiful wheeze, as she turned her face away from him. Her eyes had remained closed as she knew how easily one look of his would rid her of her willpower. "What are you doing?"

His breath was hot on her skin as he chuckled into her face, his lips just fractions of an inch away from her forehead. Strong fingers stroked over her arms and shoulders, searching for the right spot where his touch would make her succumb to his charm.

"Claire, listen," he whispered against her temple as he held her there. "I can't stop thinking about you. I think about you all the time. I don't know what this is exactly, because I-" the pause felt dramatic. "I always believed that I was in love with Amy—for a while, at least—but I never felt about Amy the way I feel about you. I've never felt about  _anyone_ the way I feel about you."

Her eyes fluttered open in surprise. Claire swallowed hard and moistened her shaky lips as she heard Piers' declaration. She couldn't remember the last time someone had told her they were thinking of her, and it wasn't relevant as it had probably been just Chris anyway. Her breath trembled as Piers' hand rose to her face, where he caressed her jawline delicately with the back of his fingers. Claire looked at him, catching sight of the tender expression that grew all over his face as he held her in his tight but gentle grip.

She gasped in despair when Piers added, "Claire Redfield, I want to be with you, and if I have to run to Chris and tell him about us I will gladly do it."

That was the sign for Claire to disconnect. The air around her seemed to become a wobbly mass of jelly that absorbed every sound and her mind could stay stuck at the fact that Piers Nivans was declaring his feelings for her. What a funny thing to say. She had spent so long surrounded by emotional wasteland that she had forgotten that men had feelings, too. Oh, how she wished she could simply let him go on and offer him everything he demanded.

However, Chris Redfield hadn't given his blood, sweat and tears to raise his sister only to see her become a helpless little princess who would trade her own faithfulness for nothing but humiliation.

"And when did you figure that out exactly?" She mouthed in a warm, seductive voice before shifting into a darker tone. "Was it before, after or while you were screwing Moira?"

It was actually funny to see how quickly he dropped the smile and left more room for embarrassment on his face. With a sad sigh escaping her lips, Claire removed his hands from her body and tried to turn away, but Piers refused to set her free.

"Let go!" She demanded harshly and got him to release her arm. Panicking breaths filled her lungs as she walked through the room, pleading herself not to break in front of him.

"Look, you can do whatever you want, okay? We're both grown-ups and, as I said, you don't owe me anything." She howled. "But you didn't seriously believe that I would be welcoming you with open arms after this, did you? You want me for yourself but you expect me to share  _you_? With Moira? Dammit. Moira is my friend! I know her since she was  _four_ years old. I often picked her up from school. I took her to see  _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_. I used to babysit her and her sister when their parents went out. Are you expecting me to share a man with her now? Neither Moira nor I deserve this!"

Piers clenched his jaw at her hard words. "Wait, Claire..."

A sorrowful glance marred her face as she stretched her arm out and pointed at the door.

"You better go," she said, holding back tears.

A dark grimace covered his face as he shook his head.

"Claire, you're getting it all wrong. That's not what happened," he muttered in an irritated tone that begged her to reconsider.

Claire licked over her lips and rolled her eyes at his statement. She faced him, cocking her head in challenging amusement.

"Isn't it?" she asked, her tone stuffed with accusations, as she started stomping through the room to start collecting all kinds of random daily objects and placing them onto the dining table as if they belonged there. Why didn't he just go? "So you didn't go home with her? And you didn't let her drive your car?"

Her burning gaze hit him and Piers understood just how much he had unknowingly hurt her. He lifted his hands in defeat and smirked warmly. There were things that needed to be clarified.

"Guilty," he said and licked his lips and decided not to hide any details from her. "I don't want to lie to you, Claire. I kissed her, as well," he confessed and watched how the redhead tensed at his words. "But that's all."

Her eyelids grew heavy and she felt like she had been staring at him dumbfoundedly for too long. Claire began to breathe normally again as her body let go of the stiffness the betrayal had caused her to adopt. And her heart? It was still pounding heavily, but the reason was a different one this time.

"That's all?" She mouthed incredulously and huffed, hoping desperately for him to tell her she was wrong. "I really want to believe you, but..."

Piers stared at her through narrowed eyes and sighed. How come she didn't believe him? He was pretty damn sure that he had not fucked Moira, taking the risk of getting his balls chopped off by the young girl, and what was he getting now?

"Claire, damnit, no! I mean… Fuck! What the hell has Moira told you exactly?"

Claire's eyebrows shot together into a hesitant grimace as a million thoughts spun through her head. Sure, Moira would have told her everything if she...

"Wait here," she pleaded and rushed into her bedroom, where the dead phone still lay on the bedside table, waiting for her to be ready to discover details of an awful truth. Had she just been braver, she would have discovered the relieving messages Moira had sent her in response to her last text.

_OMG u stupid cunt. You let me hit on your bf?_

_Consider yourself dead, Redfield! I won't forgive you this one._

_JK. he's adorable. You're a lucky bitch._

_I WANT DETAILS! I bet he fucks great!_

Claire's mouth dropped open as she read the lines. When she turned around and found Piers standing in the door, she breathed in deeply and offered him a doubtful glance.

"You told her?"

The laughter and effusive roll of his eyes caused him to hit his head against the door.

"I had to! She literally had my dick in her hands and wouldn't let go of it." In response to Claire's baffled face, he quickly added, "never mind, but I couldn't just leave her standing there without an explanation."

Embarrassment tugged on one corner of Claire's mouth; excitement on the other one. Just an hour ago she had wished she'd quickly develop a brain tumor that would press onto the right folds and suppress enough emotions to never let her fall in love again, and now she could barely hold back a squeak of happiness. She had obviously misjudged the young man, who had chosen her company over anything Moira could offer him. What a mess he was; a wonderful mess with a smile that left her breathless every single time.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed hesitantly as she walked back to face the man that stood like a guardian in her bedroom, receiving only a headshake.

"You've done nothing wrong, Claire," the man replied in a soft voice and Claire saw him drop his defensive attitude for her. "I'm the one who needs to apologize."

The laughter rolled off her lips carefully.

"Yes, maybe. Were you really jealous of Leon Kennedy?"

Inhaling deeply through wide nostrils, he shrugged eventually when she reminded him of his sin.

"Yes."

His face showed a challenging grimace as though it was Kennedy himself in front of him and it made Claire giggle amusedly.

"Are you aware of how stupid that sounds? Leon is..." She lifted an eyebrow and cupped his jaw, softly swinging her head from side to side. "You have nothing to be jealous of here. Quite the opposite."

They stared at each other in the growing darkness of the room, cherishing the silence that embraced them. It seemed too intimate, too personal to simply end it, and Piers swallowed hard before daring to speak. With one hand covering the fingers she'd laid onto his cheek, he smiled tenderly at her.

"I missed you," he said. "I'm so sorry for-"

No more words were spoken as Claire sealed his lips with her own and showed him how much she had missed him, too. His arms looped around her waist, holding her slender frame protectively against his body as his mouth savoured hers. The redhead ran her fingers up towards his head, where both her hands fisted his short hair and passionately pulled him closer into her. Giving each other hungry bites and nibbles, sucking and stroking, they kissed until their lips were sore and swollen, but still unwilling to let go, and it was the best sensation Claire had ever had.

Time seemed to fly by whenever she was in Piers' arms, and it was impossible to tell for how long they stood between door and bed before he pushed his hand under the immense shirt she was wearing. A soft chuckle met her lips when he caressed along the curve of her spine towards her shoulder blades and found that she was braless underneath. His skin begging to touch hers, Piers rolled up the shirt, breaking their kiss just long enough to get rid of her disturbing fabric while Claire began to pull fervidly on the hem of his. Their mouths crashed back together hungrily as their bare chests touched and their hearts began to beat in unison. Arms looped around each other and tongues entwined, they staggered backwards to the bed and a couple of attempts later they eventually found the sheltering embrace of the mattress below.

Piers resolutely decided he would never stop kissing her again as he climbed onto Claire's tiny body and held her captive, with his both hands pinning her arms into the sheets above her head and his legs entwined with hers as he feverishly stroked her tongue with his own. The sweet melody of Claire's moan was sent into the night the moment he abandoned her mouth and let the tip of his tongue wander down to her chin and neck, where he softly attacked every spot of the sensitive flesh until he made sure she was entirely covered in his kisses.

His name sounded so much better when Claire spoke it in that lust-filled voice of hers and Piers couldn't recall if he had ever wanted something so badly as making love to her repeatedly until they both died of pleasure. Love? Was that how they would call it from now on? Another moan of Claire's seemed to answer his thoughts as he slid his hands along her defenseless wrists and into her palms, interlacing his fingers with hers. His mouth moved along the line of her jaw until it reached her ear, ripping a cry of pure pleasure from her as he gently sucked the delicate earlobe between his teeth, giving it a slight tug.

The redhead arched her back and pressed her firm breasts against Piers' chest. He chuckled at the sensation of her hard nipples on his skin and slowly let go of her hands, running his fingers down her arms and toward her waiting breasts. He watched her face as she surrendered to the sensation of his touch and proudly began to flick his tongue over the nubs that crowned her white breasts.

Claire's arms reached for the headboard in need for support as Piers lovingly ran the tip of his tongue along the circle of her left areola and she let her eyes roll back into her head. Her chest filled with quick, shallow breaths, and the heat between her thighs became unbearable. With a stunningly skillful move, she freed her legs and wrapped them around the young soldier's hips, pushing her heel into the perfect curve of his ass as an urge for him to proceed to the next phase.

Piers turned his face to hers and gently bit her chin, before his finger pressed her lips shut.

"Patience," he breathed, shushing her quiet. "No need to rush things."

A disgruntled mewl left Claire's lips as the expectation rose and she felt the heat rush into her cheeks, but she gave up struggling pretty quickly. Piers ran down her body with a couple of convincing arguments that knew exactly where to caress, tickle and squeeze her skin and a playful tongue that savoured every inch of her as it went down her silken abdomen, straight to the waistband of the simple cotton boyshorts that covered the last hidden treasure. When he hooked a finger into the elastic, Claire exhaled deeply.

The heat that radiated from her spot seemed to shoot an aching lightning bolt of need into his groin. Sure that she was the prettiest thing he had ever laid his eyes on, he wanted to show her how much he worshipped her. Slowly crawling to the foot of the bed, he released her endlessly long legs from the ties of remaining piece of clothing and replaced it, inch by inch, with tiny kisses, until Claire came apart under him.

"Oh, god," she moaned loudly into the night as her fingers curled tightly around the edges of the headboard, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. Once the panties met the floor, Piers let his hands run up her legs, until he reached an evidently painful memory in the shape of a clean, oval scar on her left calf. A curious finger traced along the perimeter of the long mark.

"What's this from?" he asked quietly, somewhat ashamed that he hadn't found it earlier.

Claire breathed in deeply, a little annoyed by the interruption, but overwhelmed by the young man's interest in her imperfections. Without opening her eyes, she licked her lips and sighed.

"Explosion in Wilpharma facility six or seven years ago. I got away with only a shard stuck in my leg."

She opened her eyes a little, meeting a face that seemed to tell her how much the young soldier irrationally blamed himself for not being there with her. Claire laughed softly, rewarding him with a look so full of desire and the plea not to linger in the past that Piers obeyed gladly, rolling her knees in his both palms to give them a soft press. The lustful smirk on Claire's face was soon replaced by surprise as she watched Piers lower his face to the spot between her thighs.

"Hey, what…?" she squealed as his hot breath bathed her mound. "That's not… I was going to shower  _after_  dinner. Piers, sweetheart, that's not a good idea!"

A mischievous chuckle emerged from below and Claire felt how Piers' arms slung around her thighs and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed.

"So? I think this is the best idea I've had today," he replied, breathing in her scent. "Right after having a fabulous tuna salad for lunch and asking you if you want to be my girlfriend." His half-closed eyes shot up to meet hers. "A question which hasn't been answered yet, by the way."

Claire sucked in a breath and drove her teeth into her lower lip as she watched him. Piers was so handsome, so nice, so hard-working and  _Oh!_  —she cried out when his tongue gave her labia a first, determined stroke—so amazing in bed. Now that wonderful young man was seriously asking her to start a relationship with him. That was a good reason to cry out of happiness and scream her luck out into the world, but there were things she needed to clarify first.

"I'm… oh God, I…"

That was, if she'd ever get to articulate a real word again. Piers' tongue had run across her whole entrance before settling down on her clit for a while and the way he brushed the swollen nub stole her willpower. Claire grabbed the unused pillow next to her and pressed it hard onto her own face, exhaling a loud moan into the silencing cushion like it was a well-kept secret. Piers chuckled, causing the fine stubble that covered his chin to scratch over her sensitive folds and Claire stretched her both legs into the air.

"It's okay, I will give you time to consider," he mouthed and received a muffled laugh from her.

Looping his left arm around her right thigh, Piers shouldered her leg and reached for her breast, ripping a cry of surprise from the redhead. His tongue dove shortly between her lips and soaked up the sweet-sour taste of hers, and his erection began to grow painful. Fuck, he  _needed_ to be inside of her. He reached down for his dick and gave it a couple of pumps, asking his eager body to remain patient for his goddess with auburn hair.

A couple of fingers joined his mouth in its task of killing her with luxury and Claire  _heard_ her own wet desire when he drove them into her boiling heat, followed by a proud exclamation of delight coming from the young man. Claire was certain she would die of dehydration soon. With her nipple rolling between his left thumb and index finger, her clit tortured by the tip of his tongue and her wet inners succumbing to the pressure of his digits; she decided he deserved to see his wish fulfilled. She was his alone, and though she wished she could stay under him forever, the fulfilling sensation of her approaching climax was too sweet not to give in to it. When Piers sucked the sore flesh between his teeth and licked frantically over her nub, Claire couldn't hold back the scream of her orgasm that crashed loudly into the cushion of the pillow.

Every touch of his became a teasing torture on her skin as he slowly climbed onto her again and Claire felt the needed pressure of the pillow cease. A sheepish grin came to show when Piers removed the cushion and Claire allowed herself to enjoy the kiss the man planted onto her lips, saturated with her own taste and smell. Still breathless, she softly slid her fingers over his left cheek and put a smile onto his face. God, how could he be so fucking handsome?

"So, what do you say?" His breath was hot on her skin as he kissed along her jaw and Claire closed her eyes once more to feel him better.

"I don't know," she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. "Are you really serious about this?"

Piers' lips stopped on the spot. Clicking his tongue, he turned his face to hers and sighed.

"Do you think I would say it if I weren't?"

No, she didn't think he was one of  _those_ guys. She believed he was the most kind-hearted and loving man on Earth, and that's why the belief he'd fucked Moira had hurt so damn much. But even trusting him enough to grant him access to her most inner spots, she hadn't believed he was actually interested in her beyond the physical attraction.

"I just didn't know you were looking for something, you know, serious." She confessed her fears with a grimace on her face.

Piers huffed a little, rolling off of her body and lying down beside her.

"My job is a chaos, Claire. I spend my days with a bunch of unripe soldiers that behave like pubescent teenagers all the fucking time and, trust me, it's pitiful." His straight honesty made Claire laugh.

Piers took her hand in his and entwined their fingers.

"I want stability when I'm home, Claire. I wanted it so badly that I spent four years of my life with the wrong person. I meant what I said before, Claire, nobody has ever made me feel like this before and I don't want to miss this chance."

Her heart beat so fast it ached tremendously in her chest and Claire feared she was dying in those sheets moist with sweat and other fluids. She held Piers' hand tightly in hers.

"And aren't you afraid that I'm the wrong person, too?" She asked softly and kept speaking before Piers could eagerly shake his head. "It's just, I haven't been in a relationship since college, and I'm not sure if I'm good at being someone's girlfriend."

"I'm so bad at it that my last girlfriend ran off without telling me," he said laughing. "Perhaps this means we will fail, or perhaps it means that we actually work out pretty well. We won't know until we try."

 _Trying_ , what a dangerous word it became when you were jeopardizing family bonds and professional careers.

"What if this doesn't work out? We could piss off many people." Claire rolled a little closer to him and pressed a kiss to his mouth. "People will talk, you know? They might say you're just with me to impress my brother."

"I don't care what people say. And I hope you don't care either."

She thumbed softly over his cheek. "I don't, but maybe your Director Johnson does. Also, Chris might see it as a betrayal, as he strictly separates work and love interest. He can't help it. It's how he works. I mean, look at him and Jill. He spent the past fifteen years ignoring the fact that they love each other." She sighed. "There is nothing I want more than to be with you, but what if we hurt him and then find out that we don't even work out? This could have terrible consequences for your job."

The last thing she wanted was to cause him any inconveniences, and it was sadly true that Chris wouldn't tolerate it easily. Not because she was his sister nor because he was his second-in-command—although, yes, that was the main reason—but also because, to Chris Redfield, love and work could never interfere. It was painful to see how he always called Jill his  _partner_ , as though avoiding personal terms like  _friend_ or, more accurately,  _love of my life_  would keep her safe from every danger. It hadn't kept her from going out of a window in 2006 and it wouldn't stop her from sacrificing herself again if it was to save  _him_. Because Jill Valentine knew pretty well what Chris Redfield meant to her, but that's a different story.

Piers looked at her through narrowed eyes. He certainly didn't want to disappoint his Captain, but he had long decided that this wasn't a reason not to be with Claire. However, the redhead seemed nervous about telling her brother, and if he had learned anything from working with Chris, it was to take the rare times a Redfield feared something very seriously. He shrugged a shoulder.

"What if we try before we tell anyone?"

Claire blinked at him in the moonlight, puzzled by the sudden change of offer. Actually, it was an effective solution, if not a very romantic one.

"Wouldn't you mind?" she asked, a little afraid to mess things up right from the beginning. "I mean, this doesn't really suppose a difference to what we had before."

"I think it does," he said and cupped her jaw. "Now we've stopped ignoring how we feel."

Their lips melted together into another deep kiss and Claire managed to loop her legs around the soldier's hips as they slowly rolled him onto his back. Straddling him, she leaned over and caught his cheeks between her two palms.

"One more thing," she hissed a little too annoyedly into his face. "You'll see, I can't do this if you don't trust me, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

The grimace that spread over his face was visible even in the dark. Claire licked her lips and sighed.

"I mean that… Look, Leon is a fucking mess, okay? He's disobedient and selfish and he has more than just one problem with drinking." She paused and sighed. "But, sadly, he's also my best friend. Just that, my friend; nothing more, nothing less, and I hope you can trust me enough not to nag about him, because I can't handle jealousy."

Piers watched her in the darkness. He wasn't fond of the way she defended Kennedy, but he believed in her every word. Also, if he could stand the temptation to punch his teammates' faces most of the time, he could spare Kennedy too.

"I trust you, Claire," he whispered. "I won't try to tell you who to be friends with."

His response sank in slowly, but Claire eventually nodded at his agreement.

"Good," she said and began to pull on his belt and zipper, working his erection out of his pants and boxer briefs. "And now that this is said, if you allow, I'm going to sleep with my boyfriend."

With those words, and a silent moan, she impaled herself on his length.


	9. Destiny and Melanie

_[10/04, 3am] Claire Redfield wrote: Hey there. So, we've just finished the meeting. I need a drink now. Gonna hang out with Moira and check the hotel bar even before lunch. You sleep well. Talk to you later._

_[10/04, 3:05 am] P Nivans wrote:_   _Just so you know, you didn't wake me up. Sounds like the meeting didn't go well. I still hope they let you do your job. I can't wait for you to get back._

_[10/04, 11:08 am] Claire Redfield wrote: Sorry for not replying earlier. I was out of the WiFi zone of the hotel and I didn't get your message. I will tell you about the meeting when I come back. It's nothing that can't be fixed. I see someone has been partying! Or what was keeping you awake that late at night, soldier? Isn't my brother making you work hard enough?_

_[10/04, 11:10 am] P Nivans wrote:_   _He definitely is! Maybe I was just thinking of my hot girlfriend on the other side of the planet._

_[10/04, 11:12 am] Claire Redfield wrote: Hot girlfriend, huh?_

_[10/04, 11:12 am] P Nivans wrote:_   _Very hot girlfriend. I think I will ask her for some hot and dirty pics now that I can't have her here with me._

_[10/04, 11:15 am] Claire Redfield wrote: Hah! You naughty boy…_

_[10/04, 11:16 am] Claire Redfield sent an attachment: Hot_and_dirty.jpg ._

_[10/04, 11:16 am] Claire Redfield wrote: I took this one today. Delete after using ;)_

_[10/04, 11:16 am] P Nivans wrote: Ohhh._

_[10/04, 11:17 am] P Nivans wrote: Very funny. Why would you take a picture of a burning dump?_

_[10/04, 11:18 am] Claire Redfield wrote: There are several in the zone where the camp will be built. Sorry, I couldn't stand the temptation. I'll reward your patience when I'm in the room ;) Give me ten minutes._

_[10/04, 11:19 am] P Nivans wrote: Can't wait for it._

_[10/04, 11:27 am] Claire Redfield sent an attachment: private.jpg_

_[10/04, 11:27 am] Claire Redfield wrote: I hope you like this one better. I'm going to bed now. Don't fall asleep during training._

_[10/04, 11:28 am] P Nivans wrote: That…wow!_

_[10/04, 11:28 am] P Nivans wrote: Sleep well._

Nineteen days had passed since Claire had flown to India and, as a freshly in love couple, she and Piers had started texting each other whenever they could. The soldier had known the redhead was funny, but he hadn't imagined how much her sense of humor would match his own, and he caught himself checking his watch constantly to know if he could message her without interrupting anything important. They started talking about many different subjects, mostly related to what they were seeing and doing during the day. Claire sent him pictures of her trip, the location of their future camp and the exotic food she was allowed to taste and he sent her updates about his training, about how her brother was and how badly the boys were behaving.

After Claire's persisting pressure, Piers had sent her a picture of one of Ben Airhart's drawings of a girl hanging in a bondage swing. Surprisingly, Claire's reaction had included the confession that she owned that kind of sexual equipment herself. From that moment on, no matter how they started their conversations, they always ended up talking about sex.

Piers tried to fight down the arousal as he pushed his phone into his pocket and turned his attention back to the agent who was currently sharing information about Edonian history with them. Maybe they were going a bit too far in their preparation for the civil war, as the facts they were currently speaking about occurred three hundred years prior and it wasn't necessary to know their history that well to eliminate B.O.W.s.

He looked around. Airhart was drawing one of his masterworks of the cute Edonian girl they had brought to teach them everything about her homeland. Simon counted on technology rather than on artistic talent, and he kept himself busy trying to take pictures of the teacher from all the angles he could cover from his seat. The other members of Alpha and Bravo teams were handling their phones as well, playing games and typing messages. Yeah, even the Captain was paying more attention to his screen than to the teacher.

A loud sigh of relief ran through the class as the young woman told them they were done for that day and that they could leave to get to the training ground. Unlike the useless history classes, the training was going well. All of the boys had slowly gotten used to the intensive daily workout and, as they hadn't received any more preoccupying news about Edonia from the European branch, Chris and Jill Valentine had decided to give the men the weekend off, getting the Alpha Team soldiers into the best of moods.

"That teacher is the hottest toy Johnson has ever given us!" Simon yelled happily as his fingers swiped through the pictures he had taken earlier that day.

"I heard she's his niece." Andy Walker replied, laughing at the reaction his colleague gave him in return.

"Bullshit!" Airhart added as he toweled his hair dry after the shower. "She's Eastern European. Don't make up stories."

"Anyway," Simon hit his locker with his fist, "I will ask her out."

"She'll kick your ass if you even try, man," Carl Alfonso said and rolled his eyes, "Especially if you use your usual tasteless flirting lines."

Laughter rolled through the round.

"I still hear the slap that chick gave you after you asked her what time her legs opened."

Piers listened to their conversation with restrained attention, as he was busy writing another message to Claire. She'd be home the following day and he couldn't wait to be with her again, to see and touch her. Missions had gotten him used to longer periods without physical contact, and the three weeks Claire was in India were nothing compared to the four months he'd once been waiting for Amy to make a choice, but even so, the separation seemed too long for such a young relationship like theirs.

"So, guys, want to do something this weekend?" Ben asked. "There's a new pub close to my home. We could meet there and check out what's on the menu."

Piers chuckled.  _On the menu_ referred to the waitresses who worked there. It wasn't like he'd mind have a look at cute, young girls, but since that night, he'd rather check the color of Claire's underwear. He shook his head apologetically.

"Next time, guys, but my neighbor asked me weeks ago to help her with her new IKEA furniture and I don't want to leave her any longer with all the boxes laying around."

If anyone dared lurk around his apartment that weekend, Beth would tell them he was currently out buying more screws and bolts some Swedish good-for-nothing had forgotten to put into the furniture packaging. She was the best alibi he could count on, as no one would mistrust a nice old lady.

"I won't come either," Simon said, "I promised Melanie to attend a party with her."

"Again?" Ben asked, huffing out a laugh. "This is the third time you meet this week. When are you two getting married?"

Simon just shrugged the other men's laughter off.

"Shut the fuck up! She just broke up with that ass of her fiancé and needs a friend."

"What she needs is a dick," someone dared say and got hit by Simon's used towel right in the face. "Ugh, fuck, Tinman. That just touched your balls!"

Piers wouldn't dare make a comment about it, but the respectful and caring way Simon used to speak about his childhood friend Melanie made him think that the girl was the soldier's personal weak spot and that he wouldn't let anyone make gross comments about her. It was funny to see loud Simon Tinman actually stand up for the integrity of a girl and her body parts.

After grabbing his belongings, Piers waved his teammates goodbye with a short  _See you on Monday. Don't get too wasted_ , and walked out of the locker room. There were still things he needed to take care of before Claire came back.

* * *

All he had revealed to her was that she wouldn't be available for anybody else that weekend, and so she had told Chris she wouldn't come back until Monday morning. Moira, happy to help, was in charge of casually telling Barry that Claire had wanted to stay longer in India and how expensive the flight rescheduling had been. From there on, everything was covered, as Claire had taken the weekend off anyway. Piers had picked her up from the airport and brought her home, where quick dinner, a long, relaxing bath and a foot massage had been waiting for her.

"You're too nice," she whispered as her eyelids couldn't stand gravity any longer. "Where are you taking me this weekend?"

Piers just chuckled and shook his head, a devilish grin plastered on his face.

"It's a surprise," he whispered. "Don't worry, you will have plenty of time to relax and recover."

That sounded wonderful, Claire decided as sleep claimed her slowly, but not before she could express one last wish though.

"Can I drive your car tomorrow?"

* * *

During the three-hour-drive, she had been casually asking again where they were going, only receiving more mysterious laughter and the promise that he would make her enjoy the trip to the fullest in response. Claire couldn't stop her heart from beating like mad, remembering that the last one to take her on a surprise trip had been Neil—to Sushestvovanie. She laughed nervously at the thought and the relief stood visibly on her face when Piers turned at an intersection and drove up the road to a sleepy town called Cheston Grove.

"Better?" He asked curiously as Claire inspected all the pedestrians that were walking across the main avenue with shopping bags and paper cones full of chestnuts. "It's the Annual Chestnut Festival these days. There'll be games and shows, carnival rides, fireworks, and of course chestnuts of all varieties. And nobody here knows us."

Claire felt embarrassed for having shown the slightest hint of mistrust towards the young man. The sleepy, green town somewhere in the wilderness breathed out calm and peacefulness and it was certainly not a place someone drove through by coincidence on their way somewhere else. Piers had brought her to a spot where they didn't have to hide from anyone and where they could act like a normal couple, with hand-in-hand-walks and public shows of affection, and she felt her cheeks burn in anticipation as she wondered how it would feel like to be kissed under the lights of the fireworks.

A muddy path led up to a building on a hill and Claire wondered if her new boyfriend had somehow lost contact with reality. The  _cabin_ he had told her about was a mansion with a nine foot tall fence, a well-trimmed front lawn and a double garage. The impressed whistle she let out when they climbed out of Piers' car was enough to make the soldier shrug shyly.

"It's not as big as it seems," he tried to excuse himself, hoping Claire wasn't mistaking him for the overindulged brat he had successfully avoided becoming, "Although it's bigger than I remembered."

Claire laughed and playfully raked her fingers through his hair before pulling him into a short kiss.

"It looks like a lovely place. Thank you for taking me here," she said smiling, glad to ease his discomfort, "So, how come your family has a property in this tiny village?"

 _Because my family has properties everywhere_ , he thought to himself and held back a laugh.

"My grandma was born here," he explained as they pulled the bags out of the trunk, "My grandfather bought—or rather  _built_ —her this place because she missed her home. I used to spend a lot of time here with her when I was a child."

His view drifted over the mountains as he filled his lungs with a long breath of refreshing air.

"Since my grandma's death, I've only been here once. After my father lost his leg, my mother was too busy keeping him from hurting himself."

Claire's face turned into a pitiful grimace. Based on the information she had gathered, Piers' father used to be a high-ranking figure in the Army, and not being able to continue his career had to have been a hard fate to bear for such a proud man. Piers had inherited his will to fight, but he was lucky that he also knew that life was a gift. When he caught sight of her sad glance, he playfully flicked his thumb over her cheekbone.

"Oh, don't look at me like that." He laughed. "Once you get to know them, you will stop pitying them. They have everything they need. They have money, cars, health, friends and a normal son. All they're missing is their family pride."

With those words, he took her by the hand and pulled her towards the front door.

* * *

Piers had only marginally exaggerated when he'd told her that the cabin wasn't as big as it seemed. It was a very homely place with three bedrooms, a huge kitchen and a large living room equipped with all comforts. Claire couldn't hold back a giggle when she found a fluffy, cream-colored rug in front of the fireplace.

"I know exactly what you're thinking, but this thing is so old that I can't guarantee my parents didn't do it on it already. I don't think that it's a good idea."

"It's okay," she replied with a disgustedly amused grimace, "We will enjoy the open fire from another spot."

They laughed together as Piers inspected the equipment of the open concept kitchen and Claire had a closer look at the inside of the living room. Everything was neat and clean, and though the room appeared to have been cut out of an interior design catalogue, there was one thing that gave away whom the cabin belonged to.

"Is that you?" She asked excitedly as she took up the picture frame from which a young boy in an oversized navy blue suit was smiling at her.

Piers was casually propped against a column, watching her smile deliciously at the photograph.

"It's me," he answered with an awkward smirk, "When my parents still had the power to choose what was in my wardrobe."

Claire saw the hint of embarrassment in his expression, but she genuinely believed that there was nothing embarrassing about the little boy with the bright smile and that precious gap where his permanent upper incisor teeth had yet to erupt. If she hadn't already been in love with him, she would have fallen for the young man instantly.

"I guess the housekeeper put it there after I told her I was coming, because I'm pretty sure my mother had hidden it somewhere in the basement."

Claire's eyes jumped to him in surprise.

"You have a housekeeper?"

Piers nodded with a roll of his eyes.

"It's a nice old lady who lives nearby. She takes care of the cleaning, gardening and all the bureaucratic stuff. She stocked the fridge, too, by the way." He said, gesturing towards the kitchen with a wink.

Claire nodded happily. She didn't mind going out for groceries, but there were other things to do now that they had reunited. Putting away the frame, she approached Piers and slung her arms around him. He cupped her chin and turned her face towards his, meeting their mouths in a deep kiss as his hand made its way under her shirt.

* * *

If there was anything the people in Cheston Grove excelled at—besides roasting chestnuts, of course—it was shooting off fireworks. The couple stood next to the centered lake as two dots in a row of people surrounding the shore with their faces turned up to the colorful sparks that flew across the firmament and joined in on the cheerful  _ohs_  and  _ahs_  the crowd emanated.

Piers turned to Claire when her hands squeezed his. A soft smile surfaced on her lips as she stared at the night sky with the awe of a little child who had just recovered her vision after years of blindness. His arm looped around her waist and turned her to face him, and he finally showed her how it felt like to be kissed under the fireworks.

"Thank you so much for taking me here. This is so beautiful." She whispered when their lips parted, her features highlighted by the shine of the fireworks, and Piers thought that there was nothing as beautiful as the redhead by his side.

When the show was over, they took one another's hand and walked across the streets of the quiet town, following the crowd towards the carnival. Claire found herself smiling widely whenever she stared at Piers for too long and a part of her began to wonder if that's how things were supposed to be between two people.

"You look like you're hungry." He said when he caught sight of her smile and Claire tried to force her lips back into a neutral width, but failed miserably.

"Hungry?" She asked as she laughed loudly and rubbed over her belly, "I don't think that hungry is possible right now."

She felt she'd had like a ton of the delicious chestnuts, and at some point she'd had to remind herself that her stomach had a limit. No, she wasn't hungry and Piers was definitely misreading the look on her face. It didn't matter, though, as he would still get plenty of chances to figure out how her face looked like when she was plain  _happy_.

"What about dessert? They make delicious chestnut ice cream here," the young man praised with a wink, "We can't leave before you've tasted it. There's a good shoppe over there."

Claire eyed him curiously as she mulled over the idea and she decided that a tiny bit of dessert wasn't a bad idea. Before she could answer, though, someone called out for them.

"Nivans? Miss Redfield?"

They let go of each other's hand instantly and turned around to see who had come to bother them so shamelessly. Hadn't they come to the fucking backyard of the world to have some privacy? How was it even possible that anyone knew their names out there, in the wilderness, at night and in the middle of a bunch of people? The nerves scratched visibly over Claire's lips as she forced a smile at the sight of Simon Tinman, who had his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a young woman.

"What a surprise!"

They were royally fucked, Piers realized as he saw the confused smirk on Simon's face. The young woman next to him looked like her name was Melanie, and she was truly gorgeous with her rosy cheeks, lashy dark eyes, and full lips. Her brown locks fell in voluminous curls around her face and gave her look a touch of innocence that barely combined with Simon's perverted mind.

"Tinman, hey!" Piers shouted softly, feeling the blood drain from his face as a cold shudder ran down his spine. What the fuck was he going to tell him?

"Shit, Nivans!" Claire hissed all of a sudden and pulled the collar of her jacket into her face. "How many more of you are there? Are you sure my brother's not here?"

Simon blinked his bafflement away as he began to mimic Claire and looked around as if he was searching for his Captain and Piers couldn't hold back a smirk.

"I promise you, Miss Redfield, that the Captain is in New York," he said with a relaxed laugh. "This is just a funny coincidence."

The fearful look Claire gave him was convincing enough to make Simon laugh and nod in response.

"Yes, don't worry, Miss Redfield. We won't tell him you're here, if that's what you fear," he said with a wink and turned to Piers, "I mean, you're not the only one who's supposed to be elsewhere tonight."

The young lieutenant rolled his jaw and threw a hard look at his teammate. Grunting, he fought the impulse to threaten him and tried to laugh instead.

"I mean, the guys would have felt offended had I told them that I didn't want to see them chasing down girls and failing miserably."

He shrugged as Simon smirked fearfully in response as the girl next to him wrapped her arm around him.

"Yeah, it's pitiful. I mean, when are they going to grow up, right?" He laughed, not revealing the fact that he was often the most pitiful of the guys. "Oh, by the way, this is Melanie. Melanie, this is Piers Nivans, first lieutenant of our unit, and Claire Redfield, the sister of our Captain, and, as far as I can see, neither of them have been here tonight."

Claire smirked shyly and greeted the young woman with a handshake.

"It's true. I told everyone that I wouldn't be back from my business trip to India until Monday, because-" With a hand on her heart she rolled her eyes visibly. "I really needed to be away from work and society for a couple of days. Chris would feel offended if I told him that I wanted to be away from him, as well, so, please, I'd appreciate if you didn't mention that we've met."

Piers chuckled and shook his head.

"It's okay, Miss Redfield, he won't know."

Claire smirked and made a sound of relief.

"Thank you."

Before the silence that spread between them could become too awkward, Claire shrugged and gestured towards the crowd.

"So, it's been nice to see you guys, but if you don't mind, I'll get back to rest now. I'm still fighting the jetlag and I skipped the afternoon nap on purpose." She waved the three people goodbye and disappeared into the shadows of the night.

Piers watched her until he lost sight of her and turned back to Simon and Melanie.

"She seems nice," the young woman commented, "And she's very pretty."

Piers rolled his eyes as Simon shrugged disinterestedly and asked, "Is she? I've never looked at her that closely."

As if he had never been fantasizing about Claire on a BDSM bench. Piers couldn't avoid clenching his teeth as the memory came back to him.

"Isn't it a huge coincidence that we all met here?" Simon yelled suddenly, a cheeky grin spreading over his face. "I mean, we're three hours away from home! This must be destiny!"

Piers shrugged, his eyebrow jumping into a doubtful hook.

"I assume we all knew about the chestnut party the people here are throwing," he said, laughing as Melanie nodded with a wink.

"Anyway," Simon added, "We're gonna get going, too. See you on Monday, lieutenant."

Piers smirked softly as he watched the two walk away, hand in hand, like he and Claire had done before. The fact that Simon hadn't insisted on knowing more about why Piers was in Cheston Grove only showed that his only real concern that night was named Melanie.

* * *

Claire was hiding in the backseat of Piers' car, taking advantage of the darkness of the alley where it was parked and praying that there were no more B.S.A.A. soldiers around. It was truly unbelievable that they'd run into another one of Chris' men, when the tiniest chance to be seen by anyone in New York City had driven them away from the crowded city. First Chris and Jill; now Tinman and his girlfriend. The universe didn't want them to go out together, it seemed.

Piers showed up just a minute later, looking around constantly to check that nobody was following him. He dropped into the driver's seat as Claire climbed to the front.

"Hey." She whispered softly and kissed his lips as he handed her an ice-cream cone. Her eyes lit up instantly. "Oh, thank you."

"You're welcome."

As Claire began to taste the cold cream, she settled deeper into the seat.

"How did it go?" She eventually asked. "Does he know?"

He couldn't stop the laughter from escaping.

"Honestly? I don't think he cares," he replied with a roll of his eyes, "I've heard him say awfully disrespectful and simply disgusting things about every girl he's ever come across. I mean it. Every single one. Including you, by the way. But Melanie is different. She seems to be important to him and I truly believe he's too concentrated on impressing her to notice that we're here together."

Claire's look turned warm. Simon's eager attempts to impress the girl somehow touched her.

"So, we've been lucky."

Piers nodded and the redhead licked the ice cream in silence as they watched the halo of the carnival's light spread across the night sky. It was hard to say if they'd always be that lucky, if even that far away from home they would run into friends, coworkers or other acquaintances, and Piers felt that there was indeed some higher force trying to tell them something.

However, when Claire angled her foot up and placed it into his lap, mouthing a smooth  _Oops_ , he forgot about all those evil thoughts that were haunting him.

"So, what kind of disrespectful things has Tinman been saying about me?" She laughed innocently as her foot pressed down with care. Piers moaned.

"Awful things," he said with a chuckle and looked at her, "So dirty and disrespectful I wouldn't want to repeat them."

"I see." Claire gave the ice cream another determined stroke of her tongue and bent forward until their lips nearly touched. With a hint of chestnut on her breath, she whispered, "How about you show me instead?"

And when her mouth dropped to his, there was only one question remaining on his mind.

Where would they get a bondage swing that night?


	10. Memories

"Sit and watch, guys. We can learn something, here."

Piers overheard the interested laughter of his teammates when he stepped out of the armory on a Tuesday afternoon that had, so far, gone pretty well. His attention drawn immediately to their conversation, he found the men staring towards the reception and exchanging one ridiculous hypothesis after another.

"See the way she plays with her hair?" Andy howled desperately. "She wants him."

The curiosity was too hard to stand, and Piers' look drifted to the scene his teammates were commenting so effusively. His teeth gnashed together automatically when he spotted the figure of Leon Kennedy leaned against the front desk, where he talked to the young receptionist with an easy-going attitude.

"What do you think he told her?" Carl asked with a shaky voice. "I talked to her a couple of times and she was always as cold and stiff as an icicle. And she's giggling now."

The laughter of the cute receptionist reached their ears and an agitated shrug ran through their limbs. Piers watched Simon, who was rolling his eyes in irritated boredom every now and then. It was funny to see how Melanie had straightened up the soldier—once so lost—and how easily he had ceded the nasty frontline of their common verbal desecration of girls to Ben Airhart afterwards.

"He's my hero!"

Piers chewed on the inside of his lower lip in anger as he watched the disgusting scene. He hadn't known Kennedy would be coming and being confronted with the blond again had plainly ruined his fucking day. He just hoped he wasn't staying the night in New York or that he'd try to reach Claire. He snarled a bit at the thought, telling himself that it wasn't jealousy that was currently gnawing on his nerves, and that his irrational hatred towards the agent were a product of professional disconcordances.

"The Captain!" one of the boys yelled and Piers' head turned to the corridor. Chris was approaching the front desk, closely followed by Jill Valentine. The two B.S.A.A. founders greeted Kennedy formally, with their typically professional attitude before engaging in a short, serious conversation. When Chris and Kennedy walked into a nearby office and Jill took the opposite direction, Ben Airhart blew out an impressed breath.

"Have you seen that?" he asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

"He hasn't even looked at her!" Simon exclaimed and exchanged doubtful glances with his teammates.

Piers had observed the happenings through narrowed eyes. It was true that Kennedy hadn't showed any of his lame flirting attempts towards Jill, and Piers wondered if it had anything to do with Chris. Kennedy had probably heard the rumors, too, and Jill Valentine had forcefully turned into another soldier to him.

He wondered if that was how he saw Claire, too.

* * *

When he entered the bedroom after the shower that night, he found Claire sitting on the bed reading a report. She was in a short, baby blue nightgown that barely covered anything and highlighted her round breasts. Some tiny reading glasses rested on her nose and made her look like a bossy high school teacher he would have gladly let teach him a couple of lessons. He blew out a breath at her sight.

"What's that angry look?" she asked as she turned to him and Piers smirked at her.

"Angry? I was just thinking of ripping that thing off your body once you finish reading." He pushed her hair over her shoulder and began to nibble on her neck. Claire gasped in despair.

"Oh, that's tempting, darling, but after this report, there's another one I have to read." Their lips met in a deep hungry kiss. Once he pulled back, he shrugged and watched her face.

"Too bad." The disappointment was hard to hold back when your red-haired, sexy girlfriend was wearing a hint of nothing, but Piers managed to let go of her and let her finish her work in peace. "You know? Kennedy came to headquarters today."

She ripped her eyes open and gave him a frightened look, and Piers feared she was about to ask him if he'd harmed her friend in any way.

"Oh my God, don't tell me you lent him your car and he wrecked it!"

He deadpanned for a second. That was unexpected.

"I didn't even speak to him," he said eventually laughing loudly. "But maybe the female companions he flirted with did."

That comment made her smirk sarcastically.

"That's a lot of cars to crash in just one day." Claire took off her glasses and inspected his face. "What is it?"

"I know you said you two are just friends," Piers looked up to her face, gaining a somehow displeased look from her even before he ended his sentence. "But I wonder if that was always the case."

Her eyebrow shot up into an impatient expression.

"Piers..."

Sensing what she was about to tell him, he shook his head and lifted his hands in defense.

"I'm not jealous, I swear," he lied a little. "I'm just curious."

Claire rolled her eyes and snickered as Piers studied her face. She looked amazing with those glasses on her freckled nose and if Leon Kennedy didn't see how much of a woman she was, he had to be a complete idiot. Claire just laughed and turned back to the report while Piers kept watching her.

"Is that a  _no_?"

"Piers, stop it!" she yelled angrily, pulling the glasses off her nose. "I 'm not going to tell you anything and risk that you'll run after him to punch his face."

His eyes were covered by a dark mask of anger and mistrust as he balled his fists. Maybe he was acting like a reckless teenager, but was Claire suggesting…?

"What did he do to you?"

Her head swung to him, letting her eyes collide with the sparkling fury in his.

"Nothing illegal, if that's what you think."

Piers' expression relaxed, but it was still far from turning soft. After another deep breath, he began to speak in a low voice.

"It's alright." He shrugged and kissed her mouth before dropping into the cushions next to her. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to. I'm sorry I insisted."

She was so nervous that her heart had begun to beat like wild in her chest and it took her a moment to realize that they had nearly been  _fighting_ because of Leon and the thought that Piers was jealous of her friend upset her. She licked her lips and turned to the soldier, who had started swiping over his phone screen and checking his latest emails, a dark expression on his face.

"I can't believe the guys are using their work accounts to share porn videos," he hissed and Claire saw his jaw muscles tense before he turned back to face her. "You okay?"

He wasn't angry, Claire realized in shame as her look dropped back to the report in her lap and she tucked some hair strands behind her ear, almost shyly. It felt awkward to talk to her boyfriend about her past with Leon, as not even Moira nor Sherry knew what had happened, but if she wanted him to trust her, he deserved her trust, too. She eventually sighed and took his hand.

"I want to tell you about it," she said and Piers immediately put his phone away.

"Claire, I mean it. You don't have to."

But she shook her head eagerly.

"I want you to know." A sigh left her lips as she put the report and the reading glasses onto the nightstand next to her. Her fingers combed nervously through her hair as she made herself comfortable. "It's just not a very pleasant memory."

* * *

**2005, Washington DC**

More money, women, booze? A new apartment or another car to wreck? A bar for himself, or maybe a theme park? Whatever Claire had believed her friend considered a proper payment for his services for the government and all the risks he was taking, she had been wrong, because once he had saved the president's daughter from the hands of the  _Los Iluminados_  cult in Spain and returned safe and sound, Leon Kennedy had started asking—rather begging—for only one thing.

He wanted to see Sherry Birkin.

Claire hadn't known about this special petition until a year later, after Harvardville, when he'd threatened everyone with leaving the agency if they didn't finally fulfill that one humble wish of his. However, they hadn't just given in that easily. He was allowed to see her, to speak to her even, but he wouldn't get to do it personally.

Simmons had set up the video call between the government labs, where Sherry was kept, and Claire's apartment, where Leon would be. The redhead hadn't believed they were actually giving him the chance to speak to Sherry, nor that it had meant that much to him. Although, considering it, it hadn't really been a surprise, as he had given up his freedom for the girl, accepting the job for the government only to assure Sherry was taken care of, even though the care they offered was far from really caring.

He was shaking a bit when he appeared in front of her door that evening, dressed in a dark leather jacket and simple blue jeans. They greeted each other in their typical friendly manner, before Claire turned on her computer, waiting for the connection to be made. Leon seemed nervous, completely unlike the professional government agent he was, and she sensed that there lay much more behind that conversation with Sherry than just the fact of seeing how long her hair had grown.

"Good afternoon, Miss Redfield," Derek Simmons' clown face was the first to appear on the screen. There was something about that guy that Claire found deeply disturbing, but she still hadn't figured out what it was exactly. He seemed to try hard to sweat sovereignty with every word he spoke, never missing a single chance to show Claire that  _he_  was the one who determined what Sherry Birkin was allowed to do, and what not. She had once sent a letter to Sherry, trying to warn her of the man with the evil eyes, but when she'd later wanted to talk to her about it, the girl didn't get any of her hints. Someone had probably intercepted her letter. Hopefully, they hadn't showed it to Simmons.

"Good evening, Mister Simmons."

Luckily, he hadn't mentioned the letter so far.

"I assume that Agent Kennedy is with you. Am I right?" Simmons asked in an annoyingly nasal voice. Claire felt Leon shift next to her and gave Simmons a nod.

"That's correct, he's right here."

"He has five minutes." Simmons added, just to remind them, again, that he was the one in control. Claire's look jumped to Leon. He was so nervous. She caught him shivering and took his hand in hers.

"It's alright. She wants to see you, too." Her words were barely a whisper, but they made him look back at her. Meanwhile, Simmons disappeared from the screen, leaving the space in front of the camera to Sherry. Something on Leon's face changed when he saw the blonde for the first time since he had been forced to hand her over to the government seven years before. Claire wasn't sure what it was exactly, but she felt it was good.

"Leon!" Sherry yelped, getting so close to the screen she nearly hit it. "I can't believe it! Look at you! You're a grown up now! That tiny beard looks good on you."

The girl's words put a shy smirk onto Leon's face and he touched his chin as if he'd gotten caught. He let go of Claire's hand and settled in front of the computer.

"You say  _I_  am a grown up? Look at yourself!" He laughed a little. "There's nothing left of the little girl I met seven years ago."

Sherry nodded, excitement controlling her voice.

"You say it. Seven years! I'm nineteen now!"

Claire took a step back and watched them in silence. She had always had a great relationship with Sherry. The girl was, somehow, grateful that Claire had killed her father and let her mother die in NEST and she had never shown any signs of hatred or deception against her, even after Claire had left her and Leon alone to keep searching for Chris. Sherry said that the day Simmons had told her he'd let Claire come to see her had been the happiest day of her life and she always received her with widely spread arms.

However, Claire was jealous of how Leon interacted with her.

He had done so much more than her to protect the girl. While Claire had run away, he had stayed, and he was still there. Always abroad, always far away, but always there somehow. And Claire saw the sadness in his face and all the pain that lay beneath the joy over seeing their protegee.

"I never got to thank you for what you did, Leon," Sherry whispered into the camera. "Claire always tells me how hard you work and…" She held back the sobs that threatened with making their way out. "I am so sorry you're taking all this because of me. So, let me, at least, tell you this." Her eyes brightened up under the smile she put on. "I am alright, Leon. Thanks to you, I am fine. Yes, being here is not as good as being a normal kid and I'm still sad you and Claire didn't adopt me." She gave him one of her precious winks and they both chuckled. "But I guess there is no such thing as a truly happy ending when you're the child of two high-ranking Umbrella researchers."

Claire's face turned into a grimace, as she could see something break inside of Leon to the sound of Sherry's words. His hand somehow seemed to want to reach through the screen to the other side, grab the girl and run away with her and the picture was truly disturbing. Claire had never seen him like that—not a single time in all those years he had been working for the government now. It was true that he had turned colder in the previous months. Others would have seen deadly professionalism behind his acts, but Claire knew that there was something else that haunted him—and when he had comforted her in Harvardville from about ten feet away, she had felt that he blamed  _her_ for whatever it was.

"Thanks, kiddo. I needed to hear that, somehow." His head dropped a little. "I still wish I…"

"Time's up!" Simmon's voice blew a desperate expression onto Sherry's face. Leon turned his head back to the screen as the National Security Advisor pushed the blonde away from the computer. Claire furrowed her brows and checked her watch. Shit, he was right.

"Mister Simmons, please!" She took a step towards the computer, trying to buy them another minute, but Leon pushed her away.

"There's nothing you can do about it  _now_." He spoke the last word with such hatred that it seemed to drain her strength from her body. When had she ever been able to do anything about it? Had he told her that he wanted to see the girl, she would have tried to speak to Simmons directly instead of waiting for different government agency departments to make applications and quickly forget about them.

Leon and Sherry yelled last words of goodbye over Simmon's shoulders before the man cut the connection and left the agent alone with his thoughts—and with Claire. She eyed him.

"How are you?" Saying those words felt like pressing dry glue out of its tube. She had hoped he would just make a nasty comment about Simmon's stupid face and shrug the subject off. However, his head dropped in exhaustion, making her whine a bit at the picture.

"It was all in vain," he hissed and shoved the empty cup of tea off the table. It hit the ground with a loud shatter and Claire jumped in shock. "I did it for nothing!"

"It was not in vain, Leon!" She took a step forward and tried to take hold of him. "Sherry would be dead if it wasn't for your sacrifice and you know that."

Leon laughed so darkly it nearly frightened her. When he turned to her, she just saw rage and anger. Had she ever seen a glance so drenched in antipathy, hatred and despise?

"Maybe death would be better than this." His hand pointed at the screen. "She's a fucking lab rat, Claire. Has she ever seen the sunlight since she's there?"

Claire gasped for air. Was he really blaming himself for saving her? He had given up everything for Sherry, and even though Claire clearly knew that her life was far from normal and healthy, she was also aware that Derek Simmons somehow cared about the girl, and that he wouldn't send her through any pain if it wasn't strictly necessary.

"Leon, how can you say that?"

He huffed out a ridiculing laugh.

"Because I know how this shit works, Claire. I have been part of it since Raccoon City."

Claire's heart stung as she listened to his fury and became aware that this man wasn't Leon Kennedy anymore. Bruised and broken, he was merely a shadow of the cute boy she'd met seven years before in Raccoon City. As she watched his face, the words just stumbled out of her panting mouth.

"What have they done to you?"

He held her gaze like a warrior—like the superhero he was supposed to be. Loose strands of blond hair fell over his face and into his eyes, but he didn't care to blink. Eventually, he blew out a heavy laugh.

"Them?"

His voice was low and angry as he spoke; the question nearly ridiculing. Claire swallowed.

"You know…"

He freed himself from her grip instantly. She was too shocked to even let out the cry of fear that was surely running through her limbs.

" _They_  are just doing their job, Claire." Head shaking, he turned away from her. "I never expected anything else from them, to be honest. Even the day they promised me they would take care of Sherry, I knew they had a very different perception of care than I had. I wasn't surprised to hear that they used Sherry to understand the G virus." He laughed again, raking his fingers through his hair, as his look turned back to Claire. "Others, though, always preach around, claiming to be saviors, when they aren't even able to stay with the little girl they found in Raccoon."

That precise moment, she died. Her heart stopped beating and turned into an idle container of flesh in which her blood stood stagnant—at least, that's what it felt like when Leon confirmed her that he had never really forgiven her departure after Raccoon. Once she'd made sure that her heart hadn't really stopped pounding, she tried to speak.

"I'm so sorry, Leon."

He breathed heavily as he turned to the bar cabinet in her living room.

"Of course you are, but that doesn't help neither me nor Sherry."

Hurt, she took a step forward, her voice trembling as she tried to explain herself.

"I had to find Chris."

Leon turned back at her in anger.

"Sure, because your grown-up ex-military brother needed you more than a twelve-year-old orphan!" His voice was so hard, full of anger and despise that she feared that they could come to blows if one of them didn't give in. However, she was a Redfield, and nobody yelled at a Redfield without getting a proper answer. Sucking in a deep breath, she hit her palm onto the table nearby and hissed in anger.

" _You_  were the one who sent me away, remember?" She laughed. " _Leave us alone, Claire_. That's what you said."

"Because I never thought you would actually leave!" His yells became louder and Claire's neighbor started hitting the walls in complaint. "I had imagined you would be responsible enough to wait. Check the situation after some time, maybe. Make sure Sherry was taken care of." He sighed. "How could you be so immature?"

Claire's arguments stuck somewhere in her throat and didn't want to come out. She'd had good reasons to leave and search for her brother. With everything she had found out about Raccoon, she could have become a key witness in Chris' investigation on Umbrella. At least, that was what she'd always told herself to comfort her guilty conscience. She licked her lips and shrugged a shoulder.

"I was nineteen, Leon. I was a kid myself." Her friend's look drove to the ground in anger. She didn't fear he would harm her physically, but she saw how much he would enjoy making her suffer and it scared her more than anything. So much, she began to sob.

"I did what I considered the best thing to do." Their looks met before she could speak out her last attack. "I left her with a cop."

Something inside of him broke when she said that. His face turned pale and he seemed to hold on to the cabinet to avoid falling. Claire watched him as he turned away and stumbled to the table, dropping into the chair. Carefully checking if he let her, she walked towards him with sloppy steps, taking a seat next to him. He kept avoiding her gaze when Claire reached for his hand again and started pressing their palms together.

"I would have come with you, you know?" he spoke in a dark voice, nodding as to reaffirm his words. "Had you stayed a little longer… we could have found a place for Sherry and I would have come with you to France."

Claire felt a tiny tear roll down her cheek as she heard him speak. Her thumb caressed over the dry skin of his hand, trying to tell him that she was there, and that she would never leave him alone. From all the people she had met because of bioterror, Leon was one of the few she clearly wanted to keep in her life.

"I thought that you… I misunderstood. I'm sorry." Their eyes met again, and she still saw the pain in his. This was new, she realized. It had nothing to do with Raccoon City or her departure, and it was time Leon came clean about what really bothered him. With a hint of fear of the truth, she carefully leaned closer to him. "What happened, Leon?"

A shameful grin spread across his face as his fingers curled tightly around her hand.

"I… I saw the girl from Raccoon again."

Claire's eyes widened at the revelation and at the tiny spark of joy and disappointment in Leon's eye.

"In Spain, last year. She's alive, as I imagined."

The girl! The FBI agent with the Asian features who had turned out to be a mercenary seeking the G Virus and who seemed to be so utterly feminine and seductive that she had easily talked the young cop into getting the sample for her. One night, after a long, hard training day, he had confessed all of his mistakes from Raccoon City to the redhead over a glass of Scotch or two. Claire had known Leon had somehow cried that bitch's death, and that he felt guilty for not having been older and smarter when she'd stuck her tongue into his mouth to steal his soul and brain functions. However, what she saw now wasn't just shame and grief. She saw the longing behind it and it scared her to the core.

He was in love with her.

He was in love with her and he couldn't be with her because he was working for the government and she was their  _enemy_. Claire swallowed dry as she realized that it was the one reason why he had wanted to speak to Sherry—to remind himself why he had become an agent. He looked into her eyes and sighed.

"She's still working for the enemy it seems, but… she helped me again." He shook his head. "I wouldn't have made it without her."

Claire felt so uncomfortable she'd have run away gladly. Had he always been that lost in love with that girl that he even considered… what? Switching sides? The revelation gave her nausea. All the pain and destruction he had seen should have been enough for him to want to eradicate T, G,  _las Plagas_  or however they called that parasite, and any other virus from Earth's surface—forever. But, apparently, it wasn't.

She felt her stomach twitch as she remembered all the rumors she had heard. Leon was notorious for being a womanizer, hitting on every chick he came across and not caring the slightest about them once he'd bedded them. Claire had never really wanted to believe the rumors. He was too much of a good man to treat women like that and had never tried any of his moves on her, after all. The more surprised she'd been when she'd seen how he and Angela Miller had interacted, up to the point where they had gone diving together. Yet, she'd believed that it had been one isolated case and that he had, somehow, really liked Angela—no matter how absurd that sounded. Now it made sense that he'd just shrugged boredly when she'd asked him about the beautiful brunette some time later.

"I don't know what to say, Leon," she said, completely honestly. "I never knew that you… felt this way." Hesitantly, her eyes searched for his. Was there still room for her good friend behind that mess of a man or had darkness and solitude consumed him already? Thumb flicking over the back of his hand, asking him for forgiveness -and for patience. She would never leave him alone again, and together they would fix him. "Why didn't you speak to me? There's not much I can do, but maybe talking about it helps."

He snarled.

"Booze helps. Got any?"

Claire blinked in response and let doubt tug on the edge of her lip.

"I have liquor-filled pralines," she said laughing and was rewarded with an awkward smirk from her friend. Their palms still pressed together, they sat in the moonlight and watched each other in such loud silence that Claire could feel his heartbeat in her fingers.

"I'm sorry for what I said before, Claire," he whispered, sliding his free hand over her forearm, causing her heartbeat to shoot up. "There's nothing you could have changed about this all and I shouldn't be blaming you."

Which didn't mean that he wasn't. She gasped and jerked her chair a little closer to his.

"It's okay. I shouldn't have been so selfish." Even though it didn't make any difference, she wished she hadn't left them alone. "I'm not going to leave you again," she whispered, her voice barely audible under the hammering of her heartbeat. Why was her heart pounding that hard? Leon smiled, and it was a kind of smile she had never seen on him before.

"I know."

And with those words, he closed the distance between their lips and stole her will to breathe. It happened before she could react and it was nothing more than a soft touch anyway-a shy and innocent peck. But as Claire failed to show rejection, Leon soon started nibbling on her lower lip, sliding his tongue over it almost threateningly. Claire held still, unable to move, while he feasted on her. So, this was the reason why she had been so nervous around him before. Good to know she still had something like intuition.

"Open your mouth." His breath was hot and moist and it tickled on her skin as he spoke out the pleading, and there was nothing she could do about it. Leon's hand kept crawling up her arm. Once crossed her shoulder, he gently cupped her jaw, thumb flicking over her earlobe and holding her in place as he kept begging for entrance.

She could have told him to stop.

She  _should_ have told him to stop.

He would never do anything she didn't want.

_Say something, Claire. This is dangerous. Say something and stop this._

But she didn't say anything. She didn't push.

She parted her lips and offered herself to him on a golden tray.

And his tongue dove into her mouth.

It was a great kiss, full of lust and crowned with the most arousing moans she'd ever given to a man. Their tongues explored each other with soft but determined strokes and it was the most amazing feeling on Earth. Leon chuckled as she moaned softly. What the hell was he doing to her? She wasn't sure what it meant—what it meant  _to him_ —but her arm looped around his neck and pulled him closer to her as he eventually slid his hand into her hair and his fingers toyed with her red locks. Claire couldn't hold back a soft yelp as he ran his tongue over her jawline and down to her neck, biting and suctioning her soft flesh.

Wow!

Her head dropped back and she gasped in pleasure as Leon nibbled on her earlobe with hunger and lust. Hands fistened in his hair, she wondered how he had managed to simply suck away all of her willpower, as her conscience had long stopped screaming at her how much of a mistake she was making.

Anyway, it seemed to be what they needed right now—what Leon needed. Maybe it was the best way to fix him.

"Leon," she cried and felt his finger on her lips immediately. He licked his way back from her neck up to her chin and he placed another kiss onto the corner of her mouth.

"Sleep with me," he demanded with a voice as hoarse as the beard that was scratching over her chin.

Yes, she would fix him.

* * *

The next time she paid attention, she lay on her stomach in the dim moonlight that managed to break through the curtains, completely naked, with her legs spread and her breath shallow, holding on to the headboard as she watched Leon's shadow move over hers. How fast it had all gone. He'd just pulled her up and carried her into her bedroom, throwing her unceremoniously onto the mattress—face first. Little to no time was actually spent on sensually undressing each other, and the disturbing clothes had gotten discarded and tossed to the floor carelessly. Her panties? She was sure he had just ripped them off her body.

_R.I.P._

But, oh lord, how good he felt once he'd thrust into her. He was large and hard and the sound he made when he pushed into her wet hole was as arousing as it was embarrassing. Face down, Claire nuzzled the pillow, waiting for him to use her again. A little cry of pain and pleasure freed itself from her throat when the blond scratched over her thighs and dove his teeth into her right buttcheek.

"Ouch!" She yelped and arched her back until she resembled one of those cobra yoga poses. Leon took advantage of it, soon looping his arm around her neck and shoulder and licking along her jawline.

His dick pressing hard against her back, and she began to shift under him. She needed him inside again.

Leon laughed and proceeded to kick her legs open. Settling between her wet, sticky thighs, he pushed himself into her again and ripped another tremendous moan from her lips.

Couldn't they stay like that forever?

He held on to her butt as he thrust into her wet, needy hole with fury. He was rough and wild, but the pleasure in it didn't leave much more room for doubts. He could do to her whatever he wanted.

And he probably would.

He was so far from loving one could have thought he was paying her for it. After spanking her ass a couple of times he even put his hand onto her nape and pushed her head down so she couldn't move while he drilled her ungently. All his anger seemed to come through with every action and thrust and Claire felt, deep within the breathtaking sensation of the act, just how much he had hated her all those years. Maybe he could read her mind. Maybe he had read her mind all along. Trying to dissuade her from believing he would hurt her, Leon suddenly stopped moving and released her neck, leaving Claire panting heavily. Still inside her, he began to place kisses onto those spots he had left sore not long before.

"You okay?" He whispered to her as he softly caressed her shoulder with his lips.

There was no malice in his words. He spoke with such concern that Claire actually believed he hadn't done it on purpose. Her eyes fluttered shut when he combed her hair back, and she turned her face to him as far as she could. After flicking her tongue over her swollen lips, she nodded.

"I am."

He laughed a little. Slipping out of her, he pushed an arm under her belly and flipped her onto her back, climbing onto her shivering body again. They stared into each other's eyes in the growing darkness, their sweat-coated bodies still clinging to each other. Claire felt her own hands wander up her friend's strong biceps until she could sling her arms around his shoulders. He began to smile, certainly aware of how fragile she felt under his weight—how ugly and insignificant she was compared to his beauty.

Because he was truly beautiful, wasn't he? His handsome face was blessed with harmonic features and those deep, curious eyes which seemed to eat you from the inside out once he laid them onto you. Fight and training had left their gorgeous marks all over his toned body and Claire seemed to feel every single muscle under the tight skin. Blinking at him in the shadows, she turned her head a little and nibbled on his neck, gaining a soft moan and a chuckle from the blond.

And he drove into her again, gently swinging his hips back and forth to seek their both's pleasure with his moves. Claire couldn't stop her eyes from fluttering shut whenever he hit one of those pleasant spots in her, but she always forced herself to look again, afraid she would stop believing it was really happening.

His every move, his every touch and that wonderful smile on his face. She wanted to see and memorize everything about this. He was so beautiful; a handsome face on a body that robbed you every will to keep your legs closed.

"Oh God, Leon!" Her eyes fell shut again as she let out a moan that just got a chuckle in exchange. "Fuck! I'm going to…"

And she came. She came with a loud moan, trembling legs and swinging breasts. A cry of victory slipped off her lips when Leon began to groan like a wild animal and as his thrusts increased their pace, Claire knew he was there, too.

That night, they shared everything they were, and even though there was still a long way to go, Claire knew that she had saved a tiny part of him because she loved him. And if she hadn't known it before, now she was absolutely certain. She loved him, with all his  _inner_ imperfections and turmoils, and she was dying to help him out of his hole of self-destruction.

Leon sank into the sheets next to her, breathlessly and sweaty.

"You can have a shower, if you want," she panted as she faced him.

"Yeah, thanks."

They stared at each other in the dark and Claire pulled his hand to her lips.

"Or you can stay here with me."

And a hesitant smirk grew on his face.

"Okay."

Claire happily decided she could give in to slumber, next to the protecting closeness of her friend, if they weren't anything more from now on. His face was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep.

* * *

**2012, New York**

It was impossible for anyone to remember one night from seven years before so detailedly, Piers thought as he tried to convince himself that Claire was making up the story only to upset him. However, seeing the dark shadow on his girlfriend's face, he realized that she was pretty serious about her unnecessarily precise telling, and that the memory of it had carved itself so deeply into her mind because of how much it hurt. His mouth was completely dry after having spent the longest part of Claire's story swallowing. When she turned her face to him and smirked sadly, he cleared his throat.

"So, you two were…?" he asked with bravery, uncertain which word was the most correct one to use.  _A couple_ ,  _dating_ , or  _friendly fucking the shit out of each other_? "... something?"

Claire, probably hearing the tremor in his voice, huffed out a laugh as she shook her head.

"No," she said and ended his suffering. "When I woke up the next day, he was gone."

After granting himself a second to assimilate the news, he lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

"Gone? Like…"

"Just gone. He didn't even leave me a sad note," she said, embarrassment noticeable on her face. "He left me sleeping like some of the chicks he meets in bars, like we hadn't been friends for years." She hid her face from Piers' by turning her head away as something began to burn behind her eyelids and she hated to let him see her like that. "I knew he'd try to break my heart with indifference when we'd have the inevitable conversation the next morning, but I didn't expect that I was the only one who considered it important to talk about it."

He blew out a low breath and took her hand in his.

"Fuck, what a bastard," he said, planting kisses onto her fingertips until she smiled again. "Didn't he even call you later?"

Her head sunk a little farther.

"No. I waited for a couple of hours before texting him saying that he had dropped his dignity on my bedroom floor and that he could give me a call whenever he wanted to recover it."

Piers laughed and entwined his fingers with hers.

"Did he?"

She shook her head again.

"He showed up at a Counter-bioterrorism convention a couple of weeks later and excused himself with some shit about work and a mission and so…" she said. "I almost believed him. That was, until I found him with Jill in the restrooms."

Piers surprised himself with how calm he remained at the revelation, and he blew out a cool breath.

"Braiding each other's hair and talking about their period?"

And Claire laughed. His fairly maleficent comment made her laugh and she loved him so much for it that she decided to let the offensive joke slide. When she caught her breath again, Piers smirked incredulously.

"Wow, I'm sorry, that's…" Narrowed eyes stared back at the redhead. "How can you still be friends with him?"

A pitiful grimace popped onto her face as the dreaded question was asked. Claire sighed, softly shrugging a shoulder as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Because I've known the man behind the soldier," she replied, her eyes searching for a sign of support on his face. "When we met, he was completely different. I know that the circumstances have made him become cold, distant and selfish, but I know he's a good man underneath it all."

Piers caught sight of the hope she was speaking with and felt the sting of it rush deep into his bowels. Maybe Claire had a reason to believe in Kennedy's good soul, but he could still hate agent for his disrespectful behavior, couldn't he? Although, he actually just pitied the agent, who had once had the chance to get the most amazing woman in the world and had fucked up.

"Wow. Kennedy and Valentine?"

No wonder they had been acting weirdly around each other that morning.

"I assume Chris doesn't know about this."

Claire laughed darkly.

"You assume wrongly."

Piers' mouth dropped open in disbelief as she gave away that juicy information.

"What?" A hint of a smirk ran over his lips as he pictured the situation. "I kinda hope he punched his face in return."

Her hand caressed over his jaw as though she tried to calm him. Piers was so full of energy, and so loyal to Chris that she had probably ruined Leon's chances to become something like  _friends_ with him—forever. She smirked.

"He didn't. It was complicated for Chris and Jill back then, and it still is. They get along so well, but they somehow never became more. Chris usually played it down; said they were just friends and partners." Claire sighed, her face visibly marred by disappointment. "He didn't take it well that Jill started seeing Leon, which only happened because…"

Claire suddenly stopped, her nose wrinkling as she seemed to search for the right way to explain.

"Because…?" he dared ask after a moment of silence and Claire took a deep breath before she kept speaking.

"I'm not sure what Jill was expecting to happen that night, but Chris was supposed to attend that party instead of me." She laughed, playfully tugging some hair strands behind her right ear. "She was so pissed that she threw herself into the arms of the most hurtful option available, and she made sure that Chris would know about it."

Piers' eyes opened widely.

"Wow, that's…"

Claire laughed.

"I know. It was absolutely not like her to behave like this and I think a part of her regrets it. As Chris' reaction wasn't as she had hoped it would be, she just kept dating Leon to see how far she could push my brother, but Chris didn't let her push him. He told her to be happy and enjoy." Claire trailed a finger over the back of Piers' hand and sighed. "She died not long afterwards, and that's how she and Leon ended. When Chris got her back in 2009, they didn't make any effort to make contact again. As far as I know, she never called him and Leon never came to see her. That was it."

Piers sighed sadly as he felt the hurt behind Claire's words.

"How about you and Kennedy?" he asked softly, curling himself against her stiff body in an attempt to provide her a caring warmth. "You just kept being friends?"

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips before she nodded.

"Yeah. We never really talked about it again," she whispered. " I don't think it's easy for him to keep acting like nothing had happened. It would be so much easier for him to ban me from his life and forget me, but for some reason, he doesn't."

When she turned her face to him and forced a smile, she blew away all his anger and eager jealousy, leaving behind nothing but the will to take care of her. He pulled her softly into him and crowned her mouth with the softest of touches of his lips and secretly thanked Leon Kennedy for not taking the chance to make her his forever.

Now, that chance was his.


	11. Differences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to all of you who haven't heard from me since December :D
> 
> This chapter is longer than I expected it to be. It's cheesy and cliché, but I know that you love this dumb shit as much as I do :P In this chapter we discover a weird B.O.W. I made invisible to avoid having to describe it, we find out why I needed OC Simon Tinman and we learn that though soldiers have feelings too.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Xaori

Once you can recognize the different types of snow by their smell, you know that you have been wandering through the bone-freezing breeze of the Siberian Arctic tundra for too long. Nights were black, days; nearly nonexistent; and since the thick snowflakes had begun to fall again and had turned the low visibility to zero, Alpha Team hadn't advanced more than a mile through the fresh layer of cold cotton. The further they walked, the denser got the curtain of snow and the harder it became to breathe. Even stuck into the protective gloves that complemented his uniform, Piers' fingers had turned into icicles around the rifle too easily, and as the cold rushed into his lungs he could only think of how warm he would be at home, in bed, with Claire in his arms. Never before had a mission felt so desperately lost like this one, and as he found his professional attention too often displaced by daydreams about his girlfriend, he began to question many of the choices that had been made by their supervisors. Hunger and cold were causing the mood in the unit to sink drastically, but what really took its toll on them was the lack of a purpose.

"Stupid Europeans!"

"Do they know what a B.O.W. looks like at all?"

"Useless folks. They get snowflakes onto their lenses and confuse them with monsters."

"This is not even European territory anymore."

Piers couldn't blame his teammates for their complaints, as they had attended the European B.S.A.A. branch's emergency call too quickly to find nothing to fight once there. Against all prognosis, European S.O.A. had spotted B.O.W.s in the Northern Russian Area, which had bombed the global forecast of B.S.A.A. troops for the rest of 2012.

"Calm down, men!"

If Chris hadn't been with them, the unit would have gone to shit on day two. It seemed that nothing could break the shield of self-control and patience their Captain was carrying and Piers suspected it was a trait that came with age, experience and an excessive amount of unwon battles. It was what made a fantastic leader out of a soldier who, according to Claire, used to have dangerously high doses of insubordination in his blood. Lucky him, there weren't many higher ranks in the B.S.A.A. able to give orders Chris Redfield could disobey.

"Captain!" Simon called out after keeping his mouth shut for only a couple of seconds. "What if there aren't any B.O.W.s?"

Piers' eyes shot to Chris, whose steady pace kept leading his team through the lowland of whiteness, and he saw him clench his jaw. Thereupon, the Captain began to snicker coldly and turned to face his men.

"Well, that would be wonderful. It's exactly what we're after," he exclaimed with downplayed exasperation. "Our mission is completed once the biohazard is eliminated, after all."

Silence spread among the men—some turning their head away in embarrassment, others challengingly holding Chris' gaze, probably thinking he had lost his mind because of the extreme conditions, too.

"Somewhere else, we would be so much more useful," Andy declared under his breath.

Piers waited for a response from the Captain that would cut the noncompliance of the team immediately, but said response came from the rows of soldiers themselves—maybe just not as the young lieutenant had expected.

"You aren't useful anywhere, Walker," Ben Airhart howled louder than the wind and sent a wave of laughter through the round. Even Chris was lowering his head and raising his shoulders into a pose only withheld laughter could cause, and Piers allowed himself to smirk along with his teammates.

"Alright, enough," Captain Redfield commanded as he turned back to face the open path that lay before them. "It seems that we are close to the ruins where S.O.A. Kendels assures to have found traces of B.O.W.s. You know the rules. Stick together and keep your eyes open."

And hadn't it been the third or fourth time they were uselessly checking a zone where the monsters had been seen, they might have even appreciated the news.

"Let's hope we find something there," Piers heard Carl blurt out and sighed.

He wasn't proud of it, but he, too, had never been so happy to find fresh footprints in the snow. A blend of agitation and excitement ran through the team like thunderbolt at the sight of the one lone mark on the ground and the soldiers instantly began to build a circle, backs turned to each other, ready to open fire. Whatever was waiting for them there, it was huge, and they could only hope it was alone.

It was hard to make out any sound in the whistling, with snowflakes loaded wind, and they had to advance blindly through the long-abandoned village. A sudden yowl seemed to break the noise of the storm in the distance and Chris gestured for the team to follow his lead around the buildings in silence. Only the snow crystals under the boots crackled the howling of the wind away as the unit stepped resolutely through the deserted streets. They took cover behind a building, letting Chris peek around the corner. The Captain soon waved towards the frozen alley and the unit abandoned the cover, stepping into the open street, Chris taking point.

"Captain!"

The team watched out at the call of Tinman, pointing at a lifeless mass of red in the snow. Approaching it with care and all eyes on the surroundings, they were soon confronted with the torn frame of a Siberian wolf and its inners spread grotesquely over the ground. The warm blood had momentarily melted the snow around the body before crystallizing under the cold touch of the outdoors, and the shade of dark red seemed to awake the soldiers from the state of sleep they had been caught within for days.

"Whatever it is, it's hungry."

There were studies, researches about how long zombies and other B.O.W.s could survive without aliment. Days, weeks, months; the period differed between creations, but they all eventually starved to death. In a zone with such a sparse wildlife, the monsters were surely following other instincts than just the one to kill recklessly in ire.

"What are they doing here?" Piers mouthed as his look turned to his Captain. "It doesn't make sense to free a B.O.W. in a place like this."

With no people to terrorize and kill, what was the purpose of the infection in this zone? Had the B.O.W. moved? What was happening in the whitish hell that lay in front of them? What if, after all, they found out that it had been just a Siberian Tiger that had been feeding on the wolf, and not a bio-organic weapon?

Chris was rubbing his chin in thought, concern written all over his face.

"We will have to find out."

* * *

Covering the area was easy. The village was small, and the ruins of it didn't leave many spaces for anything to hide. With their rifles lifted, the unit moved swiftly through the white mist in search for anything that moved. Nothing came to show, though. Whatever had just killed the wolf had vanished completely. It was either very fast, very small or very…

"What the fuck?!" Airhart yelped as they watched the snow twirl up into a cone-shaped whirlwind.

Piers dropped to one knee automatically, aiming his rifle at the cloudy spiral of snow, as the rest of the unit waited for Chris's command to open fire. At what exactly, was hard to tell. Both Claire and Barry Burton had mentioned invisible insect-B.O.W.s they had encountered on  _Sushi_ Island and which had been denominated  _Glasps_. Piers remembered every single paragraph of both reports, as they had been very creative in successfully describing the sheer horror those creatures caused. Whatever they had in front now, it didn't  _feel_ like a Glasp. That didn't mean, though, that it was less scary in any way.

"Fire!"

The unit opened fire instantly, strings of bullets searching for an unseeable target until splatters of blood popped up in front of their eyes and dropped to the ground. The horrible grunt the creature made and the trace of blood in the air told them that their enemy was larger than they had expected at first, and a couple of curses couldn't be held back.

Piers reloaded the Anti-materiel rifle, keeping one eye straight on the target. The creature had come threateningly close, and if they didn't bring it down soon, they would need to retreat. He aimed blindly at the unclear target and pulled the trigger, causing another shot to rumble through the air.

"What the…?"

Flashes of red and purple popped up, the immense body of a horrid, reptilic B.O.W. with dragonfly wings coming to show shortly before it crashed into the ground, and Chris gestured for the unit to cut the fire. It was done.

"Watch out, men!" He called. "We don't know how many more of them we will find here."

As Chris took Walker, Airhart and Alonso with him to check the other side of the ghost town, Piers and Tinman stayed behind to collect samples and take pictures of the B.O.W. they had just taken down. It was rare that they had time for analytical tasks, but it was crucial in order to analyze what they were fighting and how to eliminate the B.O.W.s more effectively. Also, it was more than unlikely that Terra Save was sending their cleaning brigade when there were no survivor lives at stake, and so, the only professional counterterror intervention was coming from the B.S.A.A. itself.

The creature looked truly terrifying. It had the thick skin of an alligator covering most of its swollen body, except for a slimy abscess reaching from under the mask of horror that was its eyeless face down to its chest from where long, dark legs emerged. It was hard to believe that the four long wings on its back had been enough for the B.O.W. to defy gravity. The smell of it reminded of warm, sticky pus and was nauseous.

"Ew. Do you think this is a new virus?" Tinman asked, holding back a gag as he put the camera away and began to dig for the plastic box with the scalpel in it. Piers was, in the meantime, watching out for any new danger.

"I'm not sure," the lieutenant replied, his narrowed eyes busy checking the blurred horizon for suspicious movements, also to distract himself from the odor. "It could be T-Phobos related."

"Yeah!" Simon laughed nervously as he prepared himself mentally for whatever was going to leak out when he made the cut. "I read Burton's reports on those huge bug things."

The scalpel didn't cut deep. The moment the blade touched the soft flesh on the creature's chest, the ground seemed to tremble and a harder blast of cold wind hit the men directly in the face.

Piers lost balance, stumbled and fell onto Simon, who had long been thrown to the ground. Hearing the faltering wings of the creature drowning the approaching screams of their comrades, Piers momentarily lost the sense of up and down, and his hand searched instinctively for the lost rifle on the cold, wet ground.

_Come on. Come on!_

He pleaded for the firearm to appear in his reach soon enough to defend himself and Tinman from the resurrected B.O.W.—he opened his eyes again and saw the now visible flying tumor floating over them in the air—if possible, before it was going to smash them.

He moved his right arm over the ground as though he was trying to make snow angels, until his hand met something hard and the distinctive metallic click of his dear AMR soothed his anxiety a bit. He turned his head to the left and found Tinman shivering on the ground.

"Simon!"

He heard his own voice yell the name of a companion. He heard Chris' orders to open fire. He heard the screaming voice of the monster as it swooshed down, and Piers instinctively grabbed Simon's collar and began to roll and pull, with the lone purpose to get them both out of the target line of the falling B.O.W.

His last thought before everything turned black went to the redhead that was waiting for him to come home.

* * *

There wasn't any light at the end of the tunnel waiting for him, nor was there a heavenly melody guiding him towards the exit. Actually, there wasn't even a tunnel. All that was there was darkness, moisture and mold.

"Piers?"

Oh, and that voice calling his name.

His eyes fluttered open and shut again. He was too tired, too weary and broken to respond to the call. If he was dead, those on the other side could surely wait a little longer for him to go with them.

"Piers?"

He tried to turn his head and felt something creak. When the sharp pain ran through his entire body he knew that either someone on the other side had completely fucked up, or that he was, unexpectedly, still alive. He pressed his tongue against his paladar and swallowed. Breathing hurt; moving hurt; what about speaking?

"Yeah!"

Yup, speaking hurt, too.

"Man, thank god you're alive."

Now he recognized the weak voice of Simon whimpering a sad melody not far away from him, and Piers opened his eyes again. It was pitch dark where they were, and he slowly curled his arm up until his hand found the button on his helmet light, the beam of it instantly flooding the ceiling of wherever they were. That is, if they could call it a ceiling at all. It was rather an amorphous mass made of snow, gravel and long metal bars, and Piers found himself staring at the avalanche of rubble, wondering how long it would possibly stay where it was before crashing down onto him.

"Nivans?"

They seemed to be in some sort of warehouse, where dozens of wooden boxes were piled up against the metal coating of the walls. He took a breath and turned to his right, surprised that all of his muscles and limbs seemed to respond. If he hadn't gotten himself a leg or arm broken, he must have been the luckiest bastard on Earth, he thought as she had a closer look at all the trash that surrounded him. Boulders, broken boxes, metal rods and tons of snow had been his bed while he'd been out, but just as he saw a sharp piece of metal reach out of the ground he realized just how lucky he had really been. His AMR peeked out not far from him, stuck between a couple of boulders. Piers sighed, his breath flooding out steamingly into the cold air, before he pulled his firearm out and looked further upwards.

"Simon? Where are you?" he called and shivered at how coldly his voice echoed through the room.

"Down here," his comrade called and Piers' eyes wandered down the hill of gravel and to the ground.

"Shit."

Simon was sitting on the floor, resting his back against the wall and keeping his face covered in a mask of pain and paleness. Somewhere between his heart and his left shoulder, a short metal tube had bored itself into his flesh, and the blood from the wound had already soaked his uniform.

"It looks worse than it is," the ash-blond soldier gasped as he clenched his teeth. "I just… I can't get up without help."

The man gestured to his right foot, which had been caught under the heavy weight of a boulder. The image helped Piers focus, shake the dizziness off and act according to his position. Sliding down the gravel, he rolled to his knees in front of his friend and companion, trying not to make his concern too evident.

He truly hoped that it wasn't as bad as it looked, because it looked terrific, painful and deadly. He gulped down the last bit of saliva in his mouth as he analyzed if he could move Simon without removing the rod from his shoulder.

"Okay," he mumbled and turned his attention to the boulder on the man's foot. "Let's move this first."

Simon nodded, squeezing his eyes closed before Piers even began to push and pull on the heavy stone. The lieutenant was careful, hooking his sore fingers into the surface to grab better hold of it. With a deep grunt, he lifted the heavy boulder a couple of inches, enough for Simon to pull his limb free.

"Thanks, pal," the rescued soldier gasped as he massaged his calf with the right hand. "You can almost compete with the Captain."

Piers chuckled softly at the comparison with the mass of muscle their Captain carried around.

"It's the rifle. That thing weighs as much as a truck." He gestured to Simon's foot, which had adopted an unnatural and ugly position regarding his leg. "How's this?"

The young man breathed shallowly, his face marred with pain, as his tense body attempted to move the limp extremity.

"I don't think I can move it," he whined with a voice full of fear, and it was all he needed to say. When his glassy eyes shot up to his lieutenant, Piers already knew what he was going to suggest. "You should leave me here."

"Oh, shut up!"

"I'm just gonna slow you down, Nivans."

Piers couldn't help it and huffed out an exasperated laugh.

"I appreciate that, but we don't even know what lies ahead." He mumbled and pressed a button on his earpiece, sighing disappointedly afterwards. "Fuck."

Simon smirked sadly.

"Yeah, I checked the connection before, but we must be really deep down."

After tapping the radio a couple of times more, Piers turned his head around, scanning the area somewhat skeptically.

"What the hell is this place?"

"Some underground facility, " Simon gasped. "You should really save yourself, Piers. You can get help and worry about me later."

Piers looked back at the other man. The dark eyes of his teammate gave a truly shattering impression, staring at him from that pale face of his, all dirty with dust and dry blood. Resolutely, he shook his head.

"Even if I wanted to leave you here," he said as he took Simon's unharmed arm and hefted it over his shoulder. "I wouldn't be able to look Chris in the eyes ever again if I did."

Once they were on their three working feet, the two soldiers advanced towards a nearby open door into a dark hallway.

Piers just hoped they wouldn't find any more of those invisible creatures down there.

* * *

It was an underground lab they had been thrown into. It didn't take them long to come across the first rooms full of test tubes and containers full of liquids, which looked like they had fermented after standing around for too long. The state of the lab suggested that the crew had left in a hurry and that they hadn't come back since then.

Or were they still there?

The two soldiers were grateful that they didn't find many slopes on their way as they humped through the dark hallways. It would have made everything harder, when harder was barely possible in that dark, moist microcosmos under the surface of the Siberian tundra. It was impossible to say if they had been walking for hours, days or years.

"This is crazy," Piers murmured as he pulled Simon after him. The young man's head hung wearily from his shoulders and his right boot was squeaking terribly as the tip of it slid over the surface, but, somewow, he kept fighting. Simon on one shoulder, and the uniform drenched with his companion's blood, Piers pushed open the next double door and waved his rifle around aimlessly, just as he had done at all other doors before. While all the previous ones had revealed nothing but more darkness, what he found behind this one lifted his mood considerably.

"This looks like a staircase!" He howled and softly shook the soldier on his shoulder. "Simon, I need you to climb up the stairs."

Tinman grunted in response but bravely dragged his left foot forward with a sloppy move. His eyes were half-closed and his breathing shallow when Piers began to climb the first couple of stairs. He stopped abruptly when his face turned up.

"Oh, fuck!"

The upper end of the staircase was covered in a huge amount of gravel, soil and thrown over furniture, which blocked their direct way to the upper level. Hissing under his breath, Piers' eyes jumped from the blocked passage to the man next to him who, pale as the snow they had been walking upon before, was passing out every now and then from the blood loss and the pain in his foot. If there was a chance to break through the rubble and get out, maybe Simon had a chance.

Piers stumbled to his left and let go of his comrade, dropping his body carefully against the wall and onto the ground.

"Wait here," he said as he left Simon panting on the ground. "I'm gonna have a closer look."

The way upstairs became harder and more tiring with every step he took. Their unit had been trained to withstand the hardest conditions and not go crazy under the weight of suppositions, superstitions or probabilities, but the thought that he might not be able to get Simon out on time was spinning through his mind recklessly. Now everything depended on him.

Gloved hands swept over a large piece of stone that lay close to the left handrail, and the looser dirt began to trickle down the upper stairs and onto Piers' boot. It didn't look like he was going to get it moved with his bare hands, but he tried it anyway. Propping his whole body mass against the rock, he attempted to push it free, despite the risk that everything would collapse and bury him underneath. It didn't move an inch, though. After the third try, Piers turned around and leaned his back against the wall. Even if both of them had been in good condition, they wouldn't have been able to make it through that passage, and Piers realized they would have to find another way out. When his eyes fell onto the map that hung from the opposite wall, he felt his heart sink into his bowels.

According to that piece of paper pinned onto a cork board in a glass display, he was standing in front of the only access to the upper floor. He took a step forward to inspect the map closely, still hoping to find an emergency exit on it—if possible, not far from their current location. There was none.

That was it. It wasn't any longer a question of how far he could drag an injured soldier before he bled to death. They were trapped, hungry and incommunicado, and had to rely on the capabilities of their comrades to find them—when they probably believed them dead. When the truth dawned on him, Piers felt his heart start to pound violently until he feared he'd pass out.

"There must be another way," he exhaled and tried to remember if he hadn't come across some kind of lever in one of the rooms they had visited earlier.

When he moved back down the stairs, he found Simon looking at him through one eye.

"Blast it."

Piers' eyes shot to his teammate, silently scrutinizing if the blond had eventually gone crazy after all the effort.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," he replied, forcing a laugh as he walked past Simon.

"I mean it, Nivans," the man on the ground hissed offendedly and gestured towards the hallway they left behind. "There are boxes with C4 in the cafeteria we just passed by."

Piers felt his jaw drop slightly as two arms crossed in front of his chest. Eyes shifting from the dying comrade to the door and back in questioning irritation, he swallowed before humming softly at the news.

"You sure?"

Simon huffed out a laugh.

"Yeah, bring some." At Piers' hesitating reaction, he quickly added, "Trust me, man. I tell you what to do."

Was it insane to listen to the instructions of a half-dead explosive expert who hadn't needed to use explosives in months? Piers tried to recall the last time they had actually bombed something on a mission, but even though he couldn't remember when it had been, he did remember that it had been a success.

"Fine," he mouthed and dashed towards the hallway, his rifle ready to shoot.

* * *

When he came back, he found Simon with his eyes closed. He looked peaceful with that whitish-grey skin, despite all that blood on his body, and the floor. He needed medical attention urgently, so the whole bombing the blocked staircase didn't seem such a bad idea to him anymore.

"Simon," he called and the young man opened his weak eyes, a smile spreading across his face when he saw what Piers held in his hands. "You were right. Is this too much?"

Huffing out a laugh, Simon nodded.

"I think half of it will do," he whispered dryly as Piers smirked and pulled out the knife from the belt of his uniform. He cut the plastic layer around the clay-like material and began to part it with his hands. "What else have you found?"

"Det cord and blasting caps," the young lieutenant replied as he began to roll the explosive in his palms. "I wonder what they were doing with all the explosives."

Whatever it had been its original purpose, finding the explosives would save their lives — or kill them really quickly. In any way, it would end their fight for survival.

"Whatever," Simon sighed and lifted his arm. "Help me up. I'll tell you where to place it."

While Piers knelt in front of the obstacle, Simon stayed downstairs, watching his lieutenant's every move.

"You're doing well," he said jokingly. "You could be the explosives expert of the team."

"Well, I went through some training too." Piers laughed as he placed some of the plastic explosive into the gaps between the rubble, turning to Simon every now and then as though he asked if he was doing right. He just found his comrade nodding, approvingly.

"That's good," the young man said when he instructed Piers to use the detonating cord to unite the pieces strategically, his voice adopting a curious undertone Piers couldn't quite decipher. "So, you and Miss Redfield, huh?"

Piers stopped abruptly preparing the explosives and sighed amusedly. He had always suspected that his attempts to distract Simon and his girlfriend the day they had caught him with Claire had been in vain. Now he had the confirmation.

"Tinman..."

"Now I understand why you got so mad when we talked so badly about her," the man replied sadly. "I'm sorry, Sir. We wouldn't have been talking like that if we had known that she was with you. I assume the Captain doesn't know about you two."

At Piers' angry gaze of urgency the other soldier smirked, trying to lift a hand in a defensive manner.

"It's fine. My lips are sealed."

The word of a moribund was something one could believe in, wasn't it? Piers relaxed and turned back to the explosive, his anxiety lulled by Simon's promise of silence.

"Melanie thinks you make a cute couple, by the way."

Piers was busy wrapping the detonation cord around the last piece of explosive and plastered the major rock with it. He tried to ignore his teammate's comments, keeping his breathing soft and slow as he spun the cord into a loose knot. His thoughts kept running back to Claire, though, triggered by Simon's intruding words.

"You're talking too much, Tinman," he eventually complained. "Focus on surviving."

Never had he regretted a word like that one, as Simon's sly look quickly faded into an expression of grief and Piers felt as though the temperature had just sunk a couple of degrees more. He could play it down as much as he wanted, but Simon was very well aware that the wound on his shoulder looked bad. They had been lucky so far, but nothing could guarantee that they wouldn't get attacked by one of those invisible B.O.W.s again, or that they wouldn't find more unexpected threats behind that blocked staircase, and Simon was, in the meanwhile, bleeding to death. That was not a reason to lose hope, though.

"Do you love her?"

The question surprised Piers so much that he bit his cheek in shock. Eyes fluttered wide open as he stared back at his comrade, not really certain what the answer to his question was.

"I mean  _real_ love, not just  _being in love_ ," the blond whispered as a smile crawled onto his face. "We already saw that you were in love from the way you looked at each other."

Piers turned back to the task, making a poor attempt at shaking the subject off.

"Seriously, Tinman. Aren't we a bit too old for this talk?"

He earned himself a laugh in response.

"You think so?" The soldier asked weakly. "I think there's a difference. Being in love with someone is like starting a charcoal grill with lighter fluid. It burns high for a while, but you can't cook your food with it because it would burn. Loving someone is like the charcoal that has already turned into embers. It doesn't flame up, but it lasts and warms."

It was somehow heart-warming how the man who'd used to classify women by their breast-shape was now talking about feelings, when Piers had believed that he wasn't even capable of such things.

"How poetic," he pointed out with a snicker, to which Simon replied with a smile.

"Yeah, right?" He shrugged his good shoulder and showed Piers a row of teeth. "But it's true. When you're in love you think about the other person all the time. When you love someone, that person has become such an important part of your life that you don't have to think about them anymore. They are in the way you think, act, speak...in everything you do."

The knot in Piers' throat became bigger the more Simon told him about feelings, easily tagging everything he hadn't been able to identify yet, and he went silent as his fingers worked the C4 into the wall.

"I think I love Melanie."

Piers had just finished putting the pieces of explosive into place, and turned around slowly to find Simon sobbing softly against the wall.

"I wasn't...I wasn't sure about this but now..." He stopped, swallowed and breathed in deeply. "Piers?"

The young lieutenant was walking down the stairs towards his comrade, kneeling down next to him.

"Yeah?"

A single tear rolled down his face, leaving a line of clean skin behind as it seemed to wash away the dust before dropping onto his shoulder and becoming one with his blood.

"If I don't make it, will you tell her I love her?"

Piers swallowed. A tragic scene he had never believed to happen outside the movies was playing in front of his eyes. A man, so close to death, asking his comrade to bring his girlfriend a selfish message she wouldn't be able to answer. Piers shook his head.

"I have a better idea," he said resolutely as he grabbed the collar of Simon's uniform and hefted the man onto his foot. "I get you out of here and you tell her yourself."

Looks of hope were exchanged before they moved back to the door to find cover from the upcoming explosion. Praying that Simon knew what he was doing, Piers followed his last instructions to detonate their construction.

"Three, two, one." And an immense shatter came from the other side of the door. If they had stood closer, they would have gotten hit by a piece of metal that came flying through the door. Once the dust had dissipated, Piers grabbed some more packs of explosives and slung his arm around his teammate's torso to pull him up again.

"And now let's see what's upstairs."

Step by step, the two men climbed up the stairs. The explosion had worked fine, leaving the way free, but the loud shatter hadn't remained unnoticed. As they reached the upper floor, a rhythmic sound of heavy footsteps startled them and put them at unease.

"Stay here!" Piers whispered and walked along the dark hallway that lay ahead, with his rifle lifted, decided to kill whatever was coming closer. Simon, weak and exhausted, leaned against the nearest wall. Both men held their breath in expectation until the source of the hammering sound turned around the nearest corner.

* * *

"I need a break."

Claire let her glasses slide off and pinched the bridge of her nose as Moira jumped up and moved to the coffee maker. Young Burton was right. They had spent the whole afternoon bent over maps and reports to calculate the need for supplies for the upcoming months and they  _deserved_ a break. The redhead declined gratefully when Moira lifted the can in a questioning manner.

"Thanks, I've had enough of that today."

Claire's eyes jumped to the clock and left her gasping in shock. It was eight in the evening already and they had promised the directors to have their budget forecast for 2013 ready before midnight.

"Shit."

The telephone began to ring loudly under the stacks of papers and empty bags of potato chips and Moira nearly dropped her coffee. Claire, startled, threw all the papers off her desk until the device was left uncovered and the shrill sound reached her ears very directly.

"Fuck, I need to turn the volume down," she hissed as she grabbed the speaker. "Redfield!"

_"Claire, I have a call from the B.S.A.A. for you."_

"The B.S.A.A.?" she asked and jumped a little at the message.

 _"Yes_ ," the voice said. " _First Lieutenant Nivans_. _Doesn't he work with your brother?"_

"Put him through," Claire yelped, alarmed, as her hands curled tightly around the handset until the line clicked. There was only one reason for him to call her at work while on a mission. "Piers! What happened? Is Chris okay?"

Moira frowned in concern as she came back to the desk and put her coffee down. The silence stole Claire's breath for a second until the line crackled and she heard Piers' voice adopt a comforting tone.

"Yes! Oh, he's fine!" He said in an apologetical voice. "I'm sorry about the confusion. I'm currently standing in a hospital and I just needed to hear your voice."

Claire's look softened as she blew out a breath of relief and began to twirl the phone cord around her right index finger.

"It's okay. Why are you in a hospital? Are  _you_ okay?"

He sighed.

"I am, but we nearly lost Tinman today," he explained, waiting for Claire to give him a soft  _Oh, no_  in response before blowing out a breath. "But that's not why I'm calling."

She listened attentively to his words until the last sentence caught her by surprise.

"So?"

He laughed at the curious undertone in her voice.

"The reason why I call is… Claire Redfield, I love you."

The words went through the line as dense and sweet as honey, and Claire felt time stretch and slow down as her heart rate shot up.

"Piers…"

"And I want to stop hiding." Soft laughter came from the other end of the line. "I love you and I want the world to know about it; I want  _your brother_  to know about it."

Claire sighed softly, the impact of his words running deep. A couple of months had passed since they'd made their relationship unpublically official and, since then, they hadn't spoken about telling Chris the truth again, but she had known that she couldn't just keep him a secret forever.

"You're right, let's tell Chris when you're back and-" she turned her head away from Moira so the dark-haired girl wouldn't hear her last words. "I love you too."

Moira's hearing proved to be better than Claire had imagined, as she found the young girl hanging in the chair in front of her desk with a cocky smirk on her face.

"Let me guess! That was the first  _I love you_ ," she said, huffing out a laugh, and received the shrug of a shoulder as a silent confirmation. "My god, Claire, how old are you? Fifteen?"

Claire snickered as she ran her hand softly over the handset after hanging up.

"Oh, well. I just haven't been told that very often, you know?" A bittersweet smile crawled up her face and she sank back into the chair. "The last time it came from that kid that died on Rockfort Island."

Moira's mouth dropped open widely as she began to stutter her apology.

"Oh, Claire, I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

However, the redhead shook the subject off quickly. There was no need to dwell in regret in a moment like this.

"He wants to tell Chris."

Moira laughed.

"And what did you expect? Look at you, Claire! Who would want to keep such a hot girlfriend a secret? And Piers isn't someone a normal woman would hide from the world either. Chris would understand and fuck the rest of people."

Claire agreed with most of what Moira said. She herself had often considered if she hadn't been too irrational when she'd asked Piers to keep themselves hidden until they were sure they worked, and Piers had accepted all of her stupid conditions. Now that they were ready to take the next step, their secret had caused more problems.

"How do I tell Chris that I have been seeing Piers for months?"

Moira shook her head, face marred into a mask of incredulity.

"Claire, love, you lie!" At Claire's hesitant expression, Moira shrugged as though it was the most obvious thing to do. "You fake a casual encounter with Chris, you and Piers. You start talking in front of Chris, and you repeat everything you did before, but with your brother being aware."

Claire blinked the bafflement away as another question came to her.

"And how the fuck do I fake an encounter?"

Moira blew out a breath.

"Seriously, Claire, what happened to you? Are you still the same girl that lied to her brother to steal his car and drive off to a concert in another State when she was just fifteen?"

The comment ripped a soft laugh from Claire's lips as she began to shake her head.

"I was seventeen and Chris  _knew_  I was going."

Moira licked her lips and tilted her head to the side.

"Okay," she said. "You know the perfect time to set up that encounter?"

At Claire's head shake, the young girl leaned forward and propped her chin with the hand.

"The B.S.A.A. Christmas party."


	12. Some young men and dark revelations

"I can't wait for tonight. Is six a good time for me to show up at your door with a bottle of champagne so we can go over the plan for Sunday night again?"

Claire's cheerful laughter rushed through the line and made his heart jump in delight. The recent discoveries the B.S.A.A. had made in Siberia, the ongoing civil war in Edonia and a bunch of other projects had kept all counterbioterror groups busy and the couple hadn't seen each other more than twice since Piers had come back from Russia. It was a disturbing condition for a young love like theirs, so they made sure to make the most of every second they could spend together. That night, they were going to meet to talk about the B.S.A.A Christmas dinner again, which was going to be held the following Sunday, and which they would use as a chance to carefully prepare Chris to learn about their relationship.

But there was certainly room for other activities, too.

"Champagne? Are you sure it won't be  _me_ you'll be going over?"

"Over y…? What?" He exclaimed in feigned offense, looking around the hallway to see if anyone was near enough to hear him. "You know perfectly that I am not capable of such dirty thoughts!"

A weak chuckle came through the line as Claire sensually breathed, "You're not? What a pity. I thought you'd like to see that new set of lingerie I got the other day. It's sea green and tiny."

His mouth went comfortably dry at the insinuating words.

"Tiny? How tiny?"

"A hint of nothing."

Piers felt his own teeth sinking into his lower lip as his mouth turned into a soft smile of expectation, his breath drawn momentarily from his lungs when he pictured the redhead in a dark… light… green hint of nothing.

"Screw work!" He exclaimed all of a sudden. "Let's have lunch together. We can try that new place you mentioned the other day and see how comfortable their restrooms are."

Claire laughed out loudly.

"Oh, dear! It's very easy to make you change your mind!"

His heart beat heavily at her reaction. He loved to make her laugh, hear her enjoy their time together and to listen to all of her stories. He had never felt so close to anyone, and it just reinforced the feeling that Claire was a rare treasure he had been lucky enough to find.

"So? What do you say?"

A sad tone overtook her voice and the sigh she gave him was response enough.

"Love, I'm so sorry, but Sherry and Leon are both in New York and we finally have the chance to have our annual meeting. I have to skip lunch, but I'm free this afternoon."

Piers couldn't stop his stomach from hurting uncomfortably whenever someone as much as mentioned Leon Kennedy—and if that someone was Claire, that effect was magnified— but he wouldn't admit that openly.

"Oh, that's great," he said with unnatural excitement. "Have fun! I'll be waiting for you."

She laughed softly.

"I love you. You don't need to worry."

Piers rubbed his neck as he laughed into the phone.

"I don't. Really."

"Oh, just one more thing!" She exclaimed suddenly and cleared her throat. "If you casually run into Moira, don't tell her where I am, please."

A wide grin popped onto Piers' lips as the redhead mentioned the young girl that had turned into his ally in the fight against a certain agent.

"Because she doesn't want you to see Kennedy?"

Claire laughed.

"Because she irrationally hates Sherry." The voice of innocent disconcert she used made Piers chuckle in reply.

"What?"

"Yes, I think she might be jealous." Claire huffed out a laugh. "Don't tell her I said that."

Piers was about to add some cocky comment, but when he turned around the corner, he saw Simon Tinman standing in the hallway.

"I won't, I promise. Listen, Claire, I gotta go! Have fun at lunch and don't forget to wear the seaweed underwear tonight."

He hung up before hearing Claire's  _It's sea green_ , and walked towards Simon, who was leaned onto a crutch and smiled widely as he spotted his lieutenant.

"Piers!" He said as he stretched his left hand out. "How are you doing?"

Piers smirked and offered his comrade a quick nod.

"I'm good. What about you?" he pointed at the crutch and grimaced. "Looks like it will be a while before you will get back to the team."

Three weeks had passed since they had returned from their fateful trip to Siberia after having been rescued by Chris and the other teammates from the underground lab in the withish hell. Simon had been taken to a hospital right away and, though they had known that he was recovering, neither of the soldiers had gotten the chance to visit him. The young soldier smirked regretfully as he shrugged the free shoulder, still sore from the perforation.

"That's why I'm here, actually," he said with a dark grimace. "I'm not coming back."

Piers rolled his jaw at the revelation and swallowed his disappointment.

"What? Why not?"

Simon huffed out a depressed laugh and gestured to his foot.

"It doesn't look good," he said. "I won't be able to walk for a very long time, and nobody can guarantee I will be able to move it freely afterwards." He shrugged slightly. "I've just spoken to Captain Redfield about this."

With wide-open eyes of disbelief, Piers shook his head.

"I can't believe it. How long have we been working together, huh?"

Simon laughed shyly.

"Two and a half years," he said with a nod and laughed softly. "I learned a lot from you, Nivans. Thank you for everything you did, and also for taking me out. I wouldn't have made it without you."

A smirk of gratefulness spread over his lips as he patted Piers' right shoulder with his free hand and the young lieutenant returned it.

"What are you gonna do now?"

Simon shrugged.

"I will see. For now, I want to spend some time with Melanie first."

As if she had heard the call for her, the door to the restrooms opened and the cute girl in brown curls stepped out, rewarding Piers with a wide-lipped smile.

"Lieutenant Nivans!" she exclaimed as she recognized him and threw her arms around his neck. "I heard you were the one who saved Simon's life."

Piers looked hesitant at Simon, who just smiled warmly until the girl loosened her grip around the lieutenant and dropped back to her heels.

"Thank you."

With the proudest of smiles, Simon laid his bandaged arm around the brunette's shoulders and let Melanie embrace his torso, her head lovingly dropping against his chest. They both exchanged short glances of love before turning back to Piers.

"We are…" Simon whispered softly, a hint of red flushing his cheeks.

"We are engaged!" Melanie burst into a joyful laughter and stretched her hand out to reveal the exquisite tension set diamond ring. "We know we haven't been together for long, but we've known each other since we were kids and-" she turned back to face Simon. "I feel this is the right thing to do."

Simon nodded.

"I still can't believe she said  _yes_."

Piers smiled warmly and congratulated the young couple on their decision, still baffled by how the young woman had converted his comrade and turned him into good—or acceptable—husband material.

Just when Simon and his fiancée turned around and walked away, Piers heard Chris call out for him. The Captain was giving him signs to follow him into his office.

"Simon's officially out," Chris said disappointedly when he dropped into his chair. "Got some recommendations from the recruiters to replace him. We can't go out there without an explosive specialist."

He slid a file over the table towards his second-in-command, who flipped it open as soon as he turned it to himself. "There's a young man, who just applied for a job here. Good skills, a little shy. Johnson introduced us last week and the kid didn't get a word out. Name's Macauley. Finn Macauley."

Piers chuckled at the comment.

"You think you scared him?"

They shared a laugh before Piers tilted his head to the right, eyes scanning the printed information about the soldier.

"He's young!"

"Twenty-two," Chris confirmed with a nod. "Like you when you joined."

Piers clicked his tongue, almost certain that he had joined the B.S.A.A. at the age of twenty-three, but with no interest in starting an argument with his Captain.

"Want me to show him around, sir?"

Another nod was the answer as Chris pushed himself back onto his feet.

"I told HR to contact him. He should be here in an hour or so and it would be good if someone more-" he hesitated about what expression to use,"If you could show him around as I will be in a meeting with Valentine and Johnson."

Piers coughed away the chuckle that threatened to burst out at his Captain's words. He didn't want to expose the newbie to the rest of Alpha team yet, fearing that they would scare him off—and his worries were justified, probably.

"I hear you are going to attend the Christmas party this year."

Piers looked up in surprise as Chris mentioned the dinner the following Sunday, wondering how the Captain had found out about that.

"I thought it would be funny," he replied with a shrug. "I don't have any family obligations this year, and I heard Johnson turns very talkative when he's drunk."

Chris nodded, both eyebrows raised.

"I guess my sister has heard about that, too. I've been asking her for years to join me, and it's the first time she will actually come."

Piers lifted an eyebrow in a surprised manner as he took the folder and got up.

"Really? Claire is coming, too?" He laughed, sneakily hiding that this information wasn't new to him.

* * *

 _'At least you won't get bored,'_  Claire replied to Piers' messages about the scared new explosives expert the B.S.A.A. had recruited to replace Simon Tinman.

 _'It's alright. I'm not complaining,'_  he wrote back and made her laugh.  _'But I'd rather be with you.'_

She bit her lip absently as she typed back to him.

_'Me too. I miss you.'_

"Claire!"

She looked up and met the bright eyes of Sherry, who was panting slightly as she let her olive green coat slide off her thin shoulders. Putting the phone away, Claire got up and pulled the blonde into her warm embrace, inhaling the cold air that still surrounded her.

"Sherry, it's so good to see you." After motherly thumbing over the girl's cheek and receiving a disapproving grimace of embarrassment from her, Claire dropped back into the chair and folded her hands on the table surface. An expectant glance was thrown at Sherry as the blonde took a seat in front of Claire and exhaled softly.

"So," the redhead began the conversation. "Why are you here and why couldn't we meet in September?"

The girl shrugged, giggling shyly. Ever since Sherry had been set free from the government facilities where she had been kept safe from Albert Wesker, the three friends met every September to celebrate their survival of Raccoon City. Claire had always expected Leon to change their date because of work, even bigger was the surprise that the youngest of them had been the first one to reschedule their meeting.

"In September I was busy tracking down a young man whose blood might be the key to create many vaccines and cures and I'm in New York because…" she sighed. "Because I meet up with someone in the B.S.A.A. to receive more information before I take a plane to Bratislava where I expect to find said man."

Claire exhaled at the revelation.

"They're sending you abroad?" She shook her head in some sort of restrained denial, as she had always known that the government had kept Sherry on a short leash even though allowing her to live outside their labs and facilities after Wesker's death had been confirmed.

"Don't tell Leon, please," Sherry raised her hands into a pleading fold and tilted her head. "He wouldn't take it well."

Claire sighed, the memory of past mistakes pressing heavily onto her soul. No, Leon wouldn't take it well at all, even capable of threatening a couple of people in the government to keep Sherry away from the field, and that was obviously not what Sherry wanted.

"You want to go?"

A smile blossomed on the blonde's white face as she nodded.

"Yes."

Unexpected, that's what it was. Whether it was some sort of Stockholm syndrome or not, Sherry had been captive and locked away for so long that the role of an agent fitted her need for adrenaline just perfectly. Shaking the thought off quickly, Claire forced herself to believe that the blonde just wanted to get to the root of problems caused by people like her parents and, hadn't Sherry already given enough of  _herself_ to the cause, Claire would have understood. She had tried to join the B.S.A.A. in the past, too, always rejected by the influence of her big brother.

"Be careful, okay?"

Giving Claire a proud smile, Sherry nodded.

"I will. Don't worry, Claire. It's a low-risk mission. Everything will be fine."

They shared a moment of silence, interrupted by the beeping of Claire's phone. The redhead softly touched the device to find another message from Piers flashing up on the screen.

' _I miss you too. I love you.'_

"Is he late?" Sherry's voice pulled Claire out of her trance and made her look up.

"Who?"

The girl shrugged and raised an eyebrow into an expression of stunned obviousity as she gestured to the phone on the table.

"Leon. Didn't he just send you a message?"

Claire inhaled through her open mouth as she stumbled over millions of words she could say.

"No, I… What makes you think it was him?" she eventually asked, curiosity tugging her lips into a smirk.

Sherry laughed.

"Oh, sorry. I thought it was him because you made…" she pointed at her friend. "That face. It's the face you make when you speak or think of Leon."

With an expression of surprise, Claire laughed and shook her head, a little annoyed by the fact that Sherry considered she made faces when thinking of anyone who wasn't her boyfriend.

"Not Leon," she said. "Just…"

Sherry nearly jumped over the table, grabbing the edge of it with her hands as she leaned forward.

"Who is he?"

A grimace of deep annoyance covered Claire's face. Sherry was surprisingly showing a very similar reaction to Moira's, making it unbelievable that the two girls didn't get along well. Sherry's eyes adopted some sort of piercing, urging stare that felt threatening, and for the first time ever she began to fear the girl that the government had classified as lowkey B.O.W.

"Who is who?" Luckily, their staring contest was interrupted by Leon, who stood next to the table, waiting either for an answer to his question or for a welcoming embrace.

Claire rolled her eyes.

"No one."

Sherry jumped up and hugged him tightly.

"Claire has a boyfriend."

The face Claire saw when she turned to Leon was priceless, a mix of confusion, curiosity and the hint of arrogance he usually showed in public.

"Really?" he said with a laugh as he sank onto the chair. "That's awesome."

"Yeah, but she doesn't want to tell me who it is." The girl grimaced angrily at the redhead, who gave her friends a soft chuckle.

"I can't tell you yet, I'm sorry. Maybe after Christmas…"

Leon huffed, turning his attention to the waitress until she spotted his lifted hand.

"Come on, Claire," he said when he turned back to the table. "We have to meet him, so we can ask him irritating questions and tell him all of your most embarrassing secrets."

The redhead rolled her eyes in response, letting her tongue snap into an audible click as her fingers toyed around the edge of the coffee mug.

"He knows all of them," she said, avoiding Leon's look as she revealed the truth to him.

"I see," he replied after a while, with a voice so cold that it left Claire wondering if he had already forgotten that her most embarrassing secret was  _him_.

Sherry, oblivious to the real meaning behind her friends' conversation, grabbed the menu.

"Whatever, let's order. I'm starving."

* * *

The perfume of the previous night still lingered on her skin, sparks of sweet sandalwood and leather that melted into the distinctive scent of two bodies united in love. Piers' arm slung around the redhead's sleeping form and caused her to moan softly as she nestled more tightly in his grip, as perfectly as if she had been made by his very hands.

"Good morning," he whispered into her hair and gently brushed her naked shoulder with his fingertips, pushing down the sheets that covered them both.

"Good morning."

Claire turned onto her back and looked at him, her lips soon engaged in catching up with his and continuing where they'd left it off the previous night. Mouths softly making love to each other, their hands gave in to their need for more physical contact. With a tightened grip on her, Piers turned the redhead to face him and Claire yelped in surprise when his growing erection pressed against her thighs.

"What? Again?" Claire laughed against his lips, the demanding madness in her touch showing that there was no complaint in her reaction. "Give this old lady a break!"

With his fingers entangled in her red locks, he laughed and rubbed the tips of their noses together.

"You did pretty well riding me last night for such an old lady." His breath tickled on her lips and caused her to chuckle before he pecked her mouth again.

Claire turned her hips further to her right as Piers gently angled her leg up, his touch running along her thigh until the goosebumps spread all over her skin. After placing a soft kiss onto her chin, he searched her eyes for silent approval before reaching for his member and pushing himself into her. With their mouths hovering closely over one another, they shared a breath as the soldier began to move rhythmically inside her warmth, and Claire let her fingers dance over his torso.

"Oh, Piers," she moaned softly and reached for his hand to place it onto her breast, where his willing thumb began to draw circles around her nipple until it responded to his caresses.

"Claire," he breathed and kissed a wet line over her jaw, the tip of his tongue darting out playfully to run down to her neck, where he started nibbling softly on her skin.

The wish they could start every single day of their lives like this came back to him, the picture of falling asleep and waking up next to Claire sternly burnt into the deepest folds of his mind. The more time he spent with the redhead, the more he regretted not having met her before, but he would do anything to make them enjoy every single moment together.

Hands and mouth all over the redhead, Piers increased the pace of his thrusts, making Claire and himself whine in pleasure. Piers rewarded her with a deep grunt when she put her hand onto his ass and dug her fingernails into the hard muscle and, slinging both his arms around her body, he pulled her into him. The friction increased, the pleasure thrust deeper and the sweet sensation of the approaching orgasm took over her body with the subtlety of a thunderstorm.

Arching her back, she pressed her hips up and against his groin, the need for being one with him growing unbearable.

"I love you." She screamed as she came, her orgasm stiffening her body as she clung to him, hungry for his touch.

She held him until he finished with the same confession of love slipping off his shaking lips.

* * *

Claire was just walking out of the bathroom after showering when Piers pushed his shirt over his head. One hand on her waist, he pulled her into a soft kiss as soon as he had her in his reach.

"I just got a call from your brother," he said with a disappointed grimace which Claire mirrored immediately, knowing that Chris hadn't just called to wish him a nice day. "He wants me in HQ."

"Always ruining my plans," she grunted and threw the towel away, leaving Piers staring at her with the curiosity of a young boy before she pulled fresh underwear on. "You have to leave now?"

He nodded, pursing his lips.

"But I'll call you, okay?"

Claire sighed, opening the wardrobe to fish out a shirt and pants.

"I hope everything is fine."

Piers laughed.

"I'm sure he just wants to hand out the preparation tasks for the Christmas dinner next week," he said with a laugh, although the concern that a more lethal reason had taken his Captain to contact him on a Saturday morning kept him ruminating. "I'll keep you updated."

Nodding, Claire walked him to the door, with a weird feeling invading her chest. When her hand met the door knob, she pulled him into her and pressed her lips onto his in a loving, deep kiss that just left her more desperate for his company. Their lips still glued to each other, she turned the knob, opening the door just an unfortunate fraction of a second too early to avoid being seen by the man that had come to visit her without previous warning. Claire gasped in shock as she turned head head away from Piers' face and met the flashing eyes behind the opening door.

"Leon?" she asked incredulously, one hand of hers pushing herself away from Piers as the other tried desperately to cling to him like a little white goat that needed protection from the bad wolf. "What are you doing here?"

A huff shot into her apartment from the hallway as the blond agent eyed her curiously.

"I didn't want to leave the city without saying goodbye," he excused himself lazily for the interruption as his view drifted to Piers. "Is it a bad time?"

Claire glared at him as Piers pushed himself through the open door—reluctantly, as he admitted to himself.

"Not at all, I was just leaving," he said and exchanged a couple of looks and a wink with Claire, who surely knew how to handle the agent alone.

Turning back to Leon, he offered him his hand.

"Agent Kennedy."

The blond man shook his hand and nodded, greeting him in a way that it almost sounded like a threat, as his words proved that he made use of an excellent memory whenever he considered it necessary.

"First Lieutenant Nivans, B.S.A.A. North American branch," he said and watched Piers closely as he walked past him into the corridor, sparks of mutual hatred snapping through the air between the two.

Before Piers turned away and left, both men turned to Claire once again, one giving her a sign of concern, the other one a look of challenging accusation, a combination to which she replied with a soothing smile.

"Is everything okay? she asked when Leon had walked into her apartment and she turned to the kitchen to see what drink she could offer him. "You know that you don't usually step by to say goodbye, don't you?"

She perceived his dark snicker from the living room and couldn't help thinking that he had come to know more about her secret boyfriend. The bastard couldn't have chosen a worse time to show up. Claire eventually found an ancient drop of Scotch in her cabinet and returned to her friend with the bottle and an empty glass.

"So? Why are you really here?"

He gave her a thankful nod as he reached for the drink and cleared his throat.

"Sherry," he said in a dark voice. "There's no reason for her to be in New York. What's wrong here? What is Simmons making her do?"

Claire sighed, accidentally revealing that there was actually a reason for Sherry to be in the city and for him to worry. She watched the muscles on his face tense as he clenched his jaw in response, blowing out a violent breath as he turned around.

"Fuck, I knew it!"

"Leon!" Claire followed him as he stomped through her living room. They came to stop in front of the window and the view of the whitish streets. "She's going to Europe to escort someone. I'm worried too, but she has been trained well, and she has some important physical advantage over us normal mortals. Also, Simmons might be an ass but I doubt he would send her into a mission she can't handle."

His right hand balled into a fist and met the glass in an impact too weak to break it but strong enough to cause a dull sound to scare the redhead next to him. Claire sucked in a sharp breath and laid her hand onto his shoulder.

"Why didn't she tell me?" There was a hint of disappointment in his voice, something that made her feel miserable and unfair. If there was anyone in the world who deserved to know about Sherry, it was Leon.

"I didn't know until yesterday either," she whispered and began to massage his tense muscles under the dark jacket he was wearing. Breathing in deeply, he relaxed. When he put his left hand onto hers, he began to turn to face her.

"She will be okay," Claire said and slung her arms around his neck. He let her embrace and comfort him, both keeping silent for a minute or two. When they eventually pulled back, most of the anger had vanished from his face.

"So, that's the secret boyfriend you didn't want to tell us about, huh?" Leon chuckled and caused Claire to roll her eyes. She had known that he would want to hear more about Piers.

"Chris doesn't know either, I assume."

She shook her head and bit her lower lip.

"No. And don't tell him, please. I will take care of that very soon."

She turned around and walked through the living room, leaving Leon standing alone in front of the window. When she looked back at him, the blond was thoughtfully stroking his chin, and the curiosity won the match against her pride and willpower.

"So, what do you think?"

Eyebrows jumped up as he breathed in deeply.

"I think he's…" he started and shrugged as he laughed. "He's young. I didn't know you liked them that young."

Claire smirked.

"I don't think age is relevant when there's chemistry."

Where had she heard that before?

The laugh Leon gave her felt unnatural, forced and insincere, and Claire couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with the conversation.

"What about your brother?" The blond walk after her until they faced each other again. "You think he will approve?"

She shrugged shyly, as the subject had been keeping her awake for too many nights already.

"He will have to. I'm sure he will accept it when he sees how happy Piers makes me." Leon's reaction, including a skeptical grunt, caused Claire to laugh. Tilting her head, she added, "what's wrong?"

A nervous tongue flicked over his lips as he sighed.

"Just be careful, okay?"

The redhead felt her face turn into a suspecting grimace.

"You won't happen to be jealous?"

Her friend rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation.

"Don't be ridiculous," he gasped, sticking his hands into his pockets and lowering his head. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

Claire's eyes narrowed in a flash of disbelief.

"Why would I get hurt?" She asked, carefully awaiting the response.

Leon cleared his throat and made a face of obviosity.

"Well, you won't deny that you've trusted the wrong people in the past, which nearly got you killed. And I warned you about it."

Claire licked the corner of her mouth as she studied his face, trying to decipher whether or not he was completely serious about his words.

"Come on! You didn't even know about Neil's existence until Chris told you. Also, he would have taken me to that island anyway," she hissed with a laugh, hoping that her reasoning would be convincing enough for Leon to stop his attacks. She couldn't blame her friend for his worries regarding Piers, though, as she herself had been excessively cautious with her distrust towards the soldier.

"I appreciate your concern, Leon, but you can be sure that I'm fine. I love Piers and, believe it or not, he loves me too."

There was something unexplainable on his face when he heard her answer; an expression loaded with disillusionment and woe. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair before turning to her in annoying austerity.

"Claire, how can you be so blind?"

She hesitated.

"What do you mean?"

Leon laid his hand onto her shoulder and shook it a little too hard.

"Don't you see that he's just using you to get Chris' attention?"

The slap shot through the room like lightning; so fast Claire wasn't aware what had happened until she felt a burning pain in her right palm. When she paid attention again, she found her fingers imprinted on Leon's cheek.

After relying on her impetuous instincts, she decided it was time to explain the anger behind her doing.

"Because that's the only reason for someone to be with me, isn't it?" She whispered and couldn't stop the tears from rising into her eyes, blurring her vision until Leon wasn't more than a dark stain in front of a white background.

The silence amplified the hurting words, along with all the unspoken thoughts and the racing heartbeats of them both. Claire swallowed, sobbed quietly and pointed her finger at the door.

"You should go."

He took a theatrically deep breath and moistened his lips before a slight shake ran through his head.

"Claire, please wait."

"What for?" She hissed, laughing at herself for not understanding earlier. "No, Leon. I have waited long enough."

She leaned forward in a threatening manner and lifted her finger.

"I made a bad choice once and you have been punishing me ever since, keeping me close enough to make me feel horrible and guilty, but never letting me make it alright. You say I am likely to make mistakes and trust the wrong people? You and I know that there's only one big mistake I made besides Neil and that was  _you_ , Leon Kennedy." She stopped, trying to avoid crying, but when she blinked, two unwilling tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Claire, please."

She lifted a hand at his interruption, demanding to let her speak.

"Please what, Leon? Now you come to my home and insult me, the man I love and my family. What for? Because you worry?" She laughed and shook her head. "No, Leon. You neither worry nor care. You just can't stand the thought that I'm happy, because you can't stand anyone who is, in any way, less miserable than you are."

Her accusations drained the color from his face, but it wasn't enough to make him keep his opinion to himself.

"If you're honest, you will admit that you were having the same thoughts. Why else would you keep the  _man you love_  a secret from your brother?"

The way he said those words was an insult itself, and feeling the fire flashing up in her eyes, Claire fisted his vest and pulled on it. The two stumbled towards the door of her apartment.

"Enough!" She hissed and ripped the door open, pushing the blond out into the corridor. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Leon turned at the door, managing to lift his hand in a defensive manner and hold the door open before she could slam it shut.

"Fine," he said. "Just be careful, Claire."

She huffed out a laugh and leaned out of the door frame.

"I can take care of myself, Leon. And I'm going to do myself a favor and cut your toxicity out of my life," before she shut the door, she added, "oh, by the way, Piers doesn't need me to impress Chris. According to my brother, he is the best sniper in the B.S.A.A and even someone like  _you_  will understand what an enormous compliment that is. And trust me, the day my brother steps back, Piers will have his position."

She eventually cut eye contact with Leon as she closed the door and dropped against it, sliding down onto her knees as she gave in to the pressure of the tears.

She cried silently, listening to the departing footsteps on the other side. She cried of hatred, of love and disappointment, of sadness and fear.

Despite every moment of disrespect, Leon always claimed to be her friend. Why couldn't he just be happy for her? She had accepted his strange obsession for Ada, too, even hoping he would someday get to make the spy his.

She cried until she lost the sense of time. The only thing she knew was that it was still day when her phone began to ring in her bedroom. Stumbling onto her feet, she dragged herself down the hall and looked at the device, happy to see the identity of the caller.

"Piers," she said softly, wiping the tears off her face. "Hey."

He breathed shallowly on the other end of the line.

"Claire," he said with an uncommon darkness in his voice. "S.O.A. have confirmed the use of bioweapons in Edonia."

The message took her breath away, as she knew that the meaning of it went far beyond the borders of the Eastern-European country.

"When are you leaving?"

He sighed.

"Tonight."


	13. Happy Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point of the chapter, you might believe that I've lost my mind.
> 
> Let me tell you that I lost my mind ages ago, so be brave and read until the end… or not. Your choice.
> 
> Lots of love,
> 
> X.

 

The catering was tasteless, the music was too loud and the heating had stopped heating five minutes after the party had begun. Hadn't there been enough champagne to sink a ship in it, the B.S.A.A. employees would have gone into riot mode and sabotaged the event without blinking. Especially the secretaries seemed to have come with the will to spend the rest of the annual budget on decent hangovers for everybody, and thanks to the bubbly liquid, the initial thread of warcries had quickly turned into drunk laughter, growls and cheerful clapping. When Director Johnson grabbed the microphone and began to sing along with ABBA's  _Dancing Queen_ , the crowd was loudly rooting for him.

"Okay," Carl Alfonso shouted, recovering from the hiccups the laughter had caused. "I have officially seen everything. I can die happy now."

Piers chuckled softly, not really listening to the conversation or the Director's wrong lines anymore. The condensed water around the champagne glass was running down his fingers as his eyes were busy scanning the surroundings for the familiar faces of Claire and Chris who, two hours after the start of the Christmas party, hadn't showed up yet. Jill Valentine was stretching her neck like a swan from time to time, seemingly looking out for the Redfield siblings just like he was. How was he going to start a conversation with Claire when she wasn't even there?

"There are the boys of Alpha team!" Johnson pointed towards the group of young men, who lifted their glasses in response, some of them waving at the secretaries on the other side of the BSAA's own events hall; others, like young Finn Macauley, blushing embarrassedly.

"He looked like such a serious man to me when I met him. I didn't know he could be so..." he muttered, his sentence soon finished by Andy Walker.

"Retarded?"

A round of nods followed and Finn turned to Piers for confirmation, receiving a shrug from the young lieutenant.

"Wait until you work with him."

"And here comes the unrivaled Chris Redfield, Captain of the unit."

Piers' eyes shot to the entrance, where Chris was currently grabbing a couple of champagne glasses, lifting one to greet the Director on the stage and handing the second one to his sister next to him. The young man's lips turned into a wide smile as he spotted the stunning redhead, who seemed to be looking for him, relaxing the very moment their eyes met. After exchanging short winks with her secret boyfriend, Claire grabbed her brother's arm to whisper something into his ear, causing the Captain to look into Piers' direction. Piers smiled, waving at him and the Redfield siblings began to make their way through the crowd towards the group of men.

"Oh, the Captain!" Finn exclaimed as he caught sight of the approaching couple. "Is that his… wife? Or girlfriend?"

Piers chuckled.

"His sister," he replied and left the young man baffled.

"He comes with his sister?"

"And what a sister," Ben Airhart sighed as he slung his arm around Finn's shoulders. "I would gladly pour my champagne over her and lick it off her body."

Piers took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he listened to the description of Airhart's excessively sexual thoughts. Finn, however, just turned his face to the colleague and asked, with the innocence of a five-year-old, "Do you think she would like that?"

Ben was so astonished that he just replied with a long croak instead of the intentioned cocky reply, and Piers couldn't avoid laughing softly as Macauley added, "Maybe you should ask her before you do it. And, honestly, if she doesn't, I think you shouldn't speak like this about the Captain's sister." He turned his face to Piers and howled excitedly. "I mean, that man is a legend!"

"Who? Johnson?" Chris had, as usual, just overheard the last piece of conversation and approached the group with a loud laugh. "I absolutely agree. That guy will make history someday."

Claire rolled her eyes behind him.

"Yeah, as the lousiest B.S.A.A. director ever."

Lousy legend or not, Johnson somehow always made it into their talks when the soldiers gathered.

Piers smiled when he got to exchange some looks with the redhead and finally saw in what delicious garments she had wrapped herself. It was a tiny black tube dress that reached to her knees and would have left a whole lot of men looking away shyly if she hadn't given them a very good and very expensive reason to stare at her chest. The fine golden necklace wore a turret shell pendant that dangled just a couple of inches over the line of the dress and pointed directly at her cleavage, much to the dislike of her older brother, who launched a skeptical glance at her whenever her hand toyed with the jewel and left the soldiers in front of her gasping.

"Miss Redfield." Airhart was the first one to make a move and grabbed Claire's hand to place a kiss onto her fingers. "If you allow me the observation, you look amazing tonight."

Claire giggled amusedly and patted his cheek in a motherly manner.

"That's very nice, Ben, but I'm not the only one whose permission you need."

She then turned to Finn and smiled at him.

"So, you must be the new explosives specialist," she said and offered him her hand which the young man shook with enthusiasm. "Claire Redfield."

"Finn Macauley," he replied. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Miss Redfield. I have heard so much about you."

Claire laughed.

"What kind of things, I wonder," she said, turning her face imperceptibly to Piers, probably remembering all the dirty thoughts of Simon Tinman he had once shared with her, and the soldier lowered his head to hide the smirk that grew on his lips.

Finn stared wide-eyed at the redhead and, mistaking her comment for a real petition to know more, he blurted out the latest of their suppositions.

"That you like it when someone pours champagne over you and…"

He never got to finish that sentence.

Young Finn Macauley had caught his Captain with the glass on his lips when he had started talking and the sprinkler of champagne he blew out due to the shook showered them all.

"What the…" Claire shrieked, a little disgusted being herself the one who'd received most of it. With anger written clearly over her face, she turned back to Finn, pointed at her body and face and said, "Maybe this answers your question."

The annoyance was quickly blown off her face, though, when Piers appeared next to her, handing her several of the tiny paper napkins the organization pretended could be used as plates for the canapes, and she carefully began to dry herself with a laugh. Chris, in the meantime, was busy asking Finn where he had heard the rumors and that it was absolutely okay to betray a teammate if it was about his sister's integrity. Piers chuckled as he spotted the scene, surprised that his Captain was indeed the overprotective older brother Claire had warned him about. He slid his jacket off and laid it around Claire's shoulders, being given a skeptical glance from the redhead as she bit her lip.

"Thank you," she whispered as she leered at him. "But, tell me, how am I gonna get a certain lieutenant's attention when I'm covered like this?"

He rolled his eyes in aroused amusement.

"I believe, Miss Redfield, that you have his full attention no matter what you wear," he said in the lowest of voices. "And that he prefers to be alone with you when you finally take it off, so no one's watching when he covers you entirely with kisses and makes love to you all night long in the moonlight."

Maybe it was the little champagne she had already drunk that was making her lose her composure now, but Claire began smiling like a child at Piers' bold comments.

"Am I blushing?" She whispered. "I'm sure I am."

He laughed a little, tempted to tuck her hair behind her ear just because of how romantic it had to look from the outside.

"You are, but it's cute."

She blew out a breath and gestured to Chris, who had let go of Finn thanks to a fortunate intervention of Jill Valentine.

"I better go speak to other people, or someone might notice too early how fond we are of each other."

And with those words, she floated away, leaving him staring at her until someone threw his arm around his shoulder.

"Man," Airhart hissed with an alcoholic breath. "I'd never thought I would say this, but I miss Tinman. Why the fuck did he have to smash his foot and get married? That new kid is so lame."

Was there any better answer than the roll of the eyes he gave in response? Probably not, Piers thought as he clicked his tongue and let his look drive go Finn, who was lonesomely sipping his drink after having been interrogated by the Captain himself.

"Give him a chance," the lieutenant said and patted Ben's shoulder. "Rumors say that Simon was a good, respectful boy before  _you_ showed him the ropes. I'm sure you can corrupt Macauley, too."

Ben grunted, tilted his head and shrugged eventually.

"Want to come watch me corrupt the new kid?"

And Piers laughed. Apparently, he had found a distraction to bridge the time he had to stay away from Claire to hide that he knew her better than he was supposed to.

"I can't think of a better plan right now."

* * *

He had believed he had known everything possible regarding impertinent comments towards women, but when Ben Airhart taught Finn Macauley the art of profanity, the young man showed quickly what a talented pupil he could be.

"An ass like that should be prescribed by my doctor," he howled to conclude the round of dirty comments, encouraged by the rest of Alpha Team, and proud to be part of them.

"And covered by my health insurance," Ben added and clinked his glass against the young man's. That was the sign for Piers to walk away from the crowd, refill his glass and grab one of the last hors d'œuvre he hadn't tasted yet, those that looked like an already digested protein bar on toast. Right after putting it into his mouth and discovering that it tasted even worse, he spat the mass into a napkin and hid the paper ball under a plate. He looked up when a familiar giggle caught his attention, and his look met Claire's.

"Now I know which of these I will skip," she said, sliding the tips of her fingers over the stained tablecloth as she approached him.

"Miss Redfield," he exclaimed before pouring down the taste of sugared rotten meat with another glass of alcohol. "Are you enjoying the party?"

Claire laughed maliciously and lifted her glass, swinging it around in a playful way that nearly poured the content onto the floor.

"Not at all," she said and leaned a little into him. "I just remembered why I always asked the colleagues from the party committee to organize the Terra Save Christmas party the same day."

Piers chuckled.

"The party committee?"

And Claire nodded, laughing into her glass as she drank.

"Human Resources," she said and made Piers laugh. "I think I'm tipsy."

"Really?"

She nodded, eyes half-closed and lips turned into a wide grin as she leaned into him.

"And I'm tired of pretending I don't know you."

His eyebrows rose into a curious mien as he looked around to see if anyone was near enough to hear them, which was absurd, as Claire's body language screamed all kinds of obscenities and made words somewhat needless. Her hand gently brushed his abs as she reached for the buckle of his belt and made him chuckle in response, surprised by how quickly he pushed her back.

"Trust me, I appreciate it," he whispered into her face with a halfway serious demeanor. "But I'd rather avoid becoming the target of your brother's next outburst."

She stopped, gave him a heavy-lidded look from below and pouted weakly before her lips turned into a seductive smirk.

"You know? It's gotten pretty loud here," she said, her eyes jumping briefly to the other side of the hall, where Director Johnson was currently trying to eat the microphone, or that's what it looked like, at least, when he hit the highest notes of  _Girls just want to have fun_. "And I've found a place where we can talk more quietly."

He grinned.

"Talking?"

Her jaw dropped into a feigned overwhelmed expression.

"Of course! What else would I do with my brother's second in command in a dark supply room?"

A frown grew on his face as he asked her skeptically, "There's a supply room here?"

* * *

There was indeed a supply room—rather a supply closet—on the main floor, and Piers briefly wondered how he had walked by that door on a daily basis for three years without ever seeing it. The bafflement didn't last long, though, as Claire pulled him into her embrace and kissed him passionately, carefully catching his lower lip between her teeth and running her tongue over it. He moaned into her mouth and pressed her fragile frame against a nearby metal shelf, making the loose rolls of paper towel shake and rumble. Hands fisted in his shirt, Claire angled her head to the right and let her tongue search for his, soon engaged in strong moves and hungry strokes, until Piers cupped her jaw and pulled back to look her in the eyes. They shimmered like diamonds in the weak beam that sneaked into the room through the thin gap between the door and the threshold.

"Give me one good reason not to hike up your dress and take you right here."

The gasp of arousal was as loud as gunfire when she replied, "I can't think of any."

And, thereupon, he looped his arm around her waist and lifted her weight onto a small desk, instantly welcomed by the heat that irradiated from between her thighs as she slung both her legs around his hips.

"Fuck me," she whispered between kisses as agile fingers unbuckled and unzipped him in record time.

How easily she could enchant him and relieve him from his willpower, he observed when his hands made their way under her skirt and hooked into her panties, about to pull them down when something behind him clicked—and opened.

"Oh, sorr... Claire? Piers?!"

The last time he had dressed that quickly had been… Oh fuck, he couldn't remember if he had ever pushed his dick back into his pants in such a hurry. Claire hopped off the desk and put her skirt into place as she began to speak soothing words to the man who had surprised them.

"Chris." She lifted her hands in a defensive manner. "It's… it's not what you think."

Once the shirt was tucked back into the pants, Piers turned around and stared into the eyes of his Captain, offering him as much bravery as anger he was receiving from the older man.

"Isn't it?" Chris asked in feigned surprise as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Because I think that I just busted the lieutenant of my team with his hands all over my sister."

Piers narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath as he decided what to do next.

"Yeah, okay, it's exactly what you think."

He could almost smell the panic on Claire when he confessed the obvious, but now that they had gotten that far and there was no turning back, he wouldn't miss the unique chance to clarify all those details that had been gnawing on him since day one of their affair. Chris' face was covered in anger, distrust and confusion, but he was calmly waiting for an explanation.

"But you're wrong about the reason, because…" He turned his face to Claire and reached for her hand. "Captain, I love your sister. Madly."

A sound of want came from the redhead next to him and left him with a proud plenitude in his chest. Chris, on his end, kept staring hesitantly at the couple.

"He's right, Chris," Claire said after gently squeezing Piers' hand in complicity and turned back to look at her brother. "We love each other."

Chris' narrowed eyes jumped from Claire to Piers and back before he shrugged eventually and laughed.

"And how did that work? You had a couple of glasses and decided that you're the love of one another's life?"

Claire sighed, rolling her eyes in annoyance and gesticulating exaggeratedly.

"Oh, god, no Chris, of course not." She exclaimed. "We've been together since the end of summer. We just wanted to figure out how this works before making it public."

Chris' mouth fell open as he heard for how long he had been kept in darkness about his sister's relationship with his second in command, and he stumbled backwards as the news seemed to knock him out. Fortunately, the door opened and salvation in the shape of Jill Valentine stepped into the room, with an unopened champagne bottle in one hand, and a couple of glasses dangling in the other.

"What the…? Oh. Hi." Her look drifted through the room in a haze of confusion. "Am I missing something?"

With an imprint of indignation spread all over his face, Chris grunted in response, angrily cracking his neck with a noisy turn to the right before he replied.

"Nothing at all. I was just finding out that these two…"

And Jill turned to the couple, her glance soon resting on their hands and entwined fingers.

"Wait! You're together?" She exclaimed happily. "That's fantastic! Congratulations!"

While Claire smiled at her friend and Piers gave her a thankful nod, Chris' head turned to his long-time partner in anger.

"Don't just support them, Jill! They've been…" He stopped abruptly, searching for the words that would express his thoughts in the most delicate way possible.

"What? Fucking the shit out of each other?" Jill asked before laughing loudly and looking at Piers. "Because I'm sure you couldn't keep your hands off of her. Am I right?"

Before either Chris or Piers could protest—for whatever reason they believed to have—Jill continued.

"Chris, I think it's time you accept that your sister isn't a teenager anymore," she said with a shrug and handed him the bottle. "Also, you can certainly celebrate that she isn't ending up with Kennedy, because, trust me, you wouldn't want to have those genes in your bloodline."

Piers stared at his Captain, seeing how he relaxed under the smooth voice of Jill Valentine, and let his look drop to the bottle in his hand.

"And what the fuck were you going to do with this, huh?" He began to shout again, making the blonde blush like a child that had been busted smoking.

"Uhm, well, that's for you,of course!" She exclaimed happily. "I wouldn't risk our baby's well-being."

Piers sucked in a breath in surprise, almost certain that he was dreaming all of the happenings, while Claire squealed loudly next to him.

"Your baby?" She pointed at Chris and Jill. "Yours? The two of you? I mean…"

Chris blew out a breath and shyly scratched the back of his head as Jill took his hand in hers.

"Yes, Claire. You're going to be an aunt."

The redhead was speechless, both with delight and irritation, as she showed when she eventually took a step towards her brother and punched his arm.

"So you get mad because I wanted to be responsible and you hide a pregnancy from me?" Her frightened look turned to Jill. "Was this an accident?"

The blonde giggled and shook her head.

"We've been together since I came back from rehab," she explained with a soft smirk on her lips. "And we're getting married in June."

Claire turned back to face Piers astonishedly.

"Can you believe it? And you were feeling guilty about us."

Piers had finally turned his attention back to the room. Laughing softly, he watched Claire, who was slowly switching her demolishing demeanor to another happy smile, until Chris cleared his throat behind her.

"Speaking of weddings…" His finger pointed at his sister before jumping to Piers and back to Claire. "I assume you two will get married too, won't you? I mean, if you're so serious about it and so madly in love, you sure want to make it official."

It was one of those moments when your field of view switched to tunnel vision and the nerves seemed to take control over you. Piers swallowed dry, just perceiving Claire's chiding voice saying something about impertinent behavior and shutting the fuck up, distorted by a haze of dull isolation. Everything dissipated, though, when he made the choice of his life.

"Of course we're getting married," he heard himself say and watched how Claire turned to him in shock, mouthing a silent  _Are you crazy?_  or similar. Taking a step forward, he saw her parted lips shake in expectation as a satisfied smirk popped onto his Captain's face. Jill Valentine was clapping softly in the background.

"You don't have to do this," Claire whispered, obviously afraid that he was just acting because of Chris' pressure.

He shook his head though.

"But I want to."

He took her hand again and pulled it to his lips, pressing the hint of a kiss onto it before dropping to one knee and making Claire gasp in surprise..

"Oh, my god."

"Claire Redfield," he said withstanding the criticizing glance of Chris and Jill. "I hope you will forgive me for not having a ring for you."

Claire giggled incredulously, her whole body shaking as her hands began to sweat a little in his grip. Chris pushed his hand into his jacket and pulled out a tiny velvet case.

"Here, take this one," he said and handed Piers the ring box, shrugging off everybody's questioning looks with the words, "I was going to give it to Jill, but her fingers are too swollen since she got pregnant."

When Piers opened the case, a beautiful diamond ring appeared and seemed to spread a warm light in the room.

"Chris," Claire cried. "Is this mom's ring?"

The Captain nodded warmly as he slung his arm around Jill.

"I will get another one for my fiancée when she's given birth to our firstborn. You take this one."

Captivated by the elegance of the ring, Piers lifted the box to Claire, who bit her lip as she tried to hold back tears.

"Claire Redfield." He started all over again. "Before meeting you, my whole life was the B.S.A.A., and it still is," he said glimpsing at his Captain. "But now I have another reason to live, another purpose. Everything seems easy when I'm with you and, with you by my side, I have finally found my own benefit in the battles I am fighting. Because I want to raise our children in a world without bioterrorism."

Now the tears were flowing in rivers down the redhead's cheeks and she used her free hand to wipe them away.

"Oh, Piers."

He smiled widely.

"I love you like I have never loved anyone before and I know that I will never love anyone the way I love you. I never truly believed in something like soulmates, but you made me believe. Also, no other woman has ever worn my jacket with so much class like you do."

They laughed together before he bit his lip, getting ready for the most important question he was ever going to ask—for the second time, admittedly, but in person this time.

"Claire, will you marry me?"

After exhaling for what felt like an hour, Claire sobbed once more and nodded eagerly.

"Yes."

The moment was magically perfect. While they had been in complete silence during his proposal, music filled the room once Claire had given her answer and a warm wind began to blow. Claire helped him back onto his feet and jumped into his arms, as Chris and Jill clapped loudly.

"Congratulations!" Chris patted Piers' shoulder and pulled the two of them into his embrace. "And Jill is right. My sister could really do worse."

"Well, thank you, Captain," the young soldier muttered, close to blushing in pride. Eventually, his professional efforts had granted him the right to become the brother-in-law of Chris Redfield, the man he admired the most in the world. Nevertheless, the Captain was just a nice additional advantage, as nobody could ever compare to the redhead that had just accepted to become his wife, and so Piers caught himself staring in awe as he watched Claire hug Jill Valentine closely, happy to welcome her to the family, too.

"I can't believe it," he heard her say. "This must be the happiest day of my life."

The door was pushed open and the remaining members of Alpha Team stormed in.

"Did we hear right?" Andy Walker asked with his arms spread wide, inviting them all into his embrace. "You're getting married?"

Finn and Carl nodded and congratulated the couple.

"Nivans, you Casanova," Airhart howled as he patted his back. "Now I understand why you always defended the lady's honor." Turning to Claire, he added, "If you ever get tired of the lieutenant, Miss Redfield, here are four other B.S.A.A. soldiers ready to please you."

Claire laughed out a little gratefully.

"That's a very nice offer, thanks, but I don't think I will ever get tired of him," Claire replied and flicked a thumb over Piers' cheekbone.

"Just promise that you'll think about it, " Airhart shouted softly, waiting until the redhead gave in and nodded with a roll of her eyes.

More and more people seemed to walk into the supply room and congratulated the two couples on the engagements and the freshly announced pregnancy. More soldiers and office personnel stepped in, filling the tiny room quickly. The last one to come in was a certain agent.

"Leon?" Claire exclaimed as the crowd parted and left a free path between the blond man and the couple, allowing direct eye contact between the redhead and her long-time friend.

He seemed to smile regretfully.

"You're engaged now?" he asked with a frown until Chris put his hand onto his shoulder in a comforting manner and the two men exchanged short glances. Leon turned to Piers and smiled widely. "I'm glad for you two. I could have never made her happy. And she deserves to be happy."

Piers nodded at the agent from a safe disant and turned to Claire, who had tears in her eyes.

"Oh Leon," she mumbled and he watched her lips speak a silent  _Thank you_  to the blond.

"Hey!" Leon said and pointed at Piers. "Can I be your best man? I mean, I would like to be Claire's maid of honor but..."

Before he could keep speaking, Chris interrupted him.

"Of course you're gonna be his best man, Kennedy. And mine, too."

The agent shrugged in acceptance.

"Fine, but maybe you could have those weddings the same day, so I don't waste too much time, you know? I mean, I'm quite busy."

The two Redfield siblings found each other's look in the crowded room and shared a moment of clarity—or lunacy—as they decided silently how they wanted to spend their wedding day.

"Double wedding?" Chris asked and Claire shrieked in response.

"Double wedding!"

And so it was decided that the Redfield-Valentine wedding would become a Redfield Valentine plus Nivans-Redfield wedding, and everybody seemed to believe it was a good idea to give up on the specialty of the most important day in one's life only to share it with their closest friends and family. Admittedly, Piers himself couldn't have been more excited to marry Claire the same day Chris made Jill Valentine his bride.

The horde of people dissipated and left room for Jill to open the bottle of champagne, serving a large row of glasses to all of them, leaving Piers stunned by how many people could drink from just one bottle.

"Hey! Listen up!" The last man who'd remained in the events hall suddenly joined the crowd in the supply room. "The government has just communicated that the lab of Rebecca Chambers in Chicago has discovered a cure against all viruses which have their origins in the Progenitor virus, including T, G and all their mutations, even the new virus they recently found in Edonia." Deep sighs ran through the crowd as the news sank in. "This cure is incredibly versatile and can be administered through many different ways, even air. The UN has confirmed it. This is a milestone for all our organizations."

The people began to cheer loudly, embracing each other happily and clinking their glasses together.

"I can't believe it," Claire breathed and turned to Piers. "We have been waiting for this for so long."

He smiled at her, softly cupping her jaw.

"This is what we've been fighting for," he said and kissed her. "Now the world will be a much safer place for our children."

Claire laughed whole-heartedly as she let her head drop back and she closed her eyes in peace.

"T will be eradicated. Chris finally knows about us and you and I are getting married." She shook her head and opened her eyes again. "I don't think I could be any happier."

That moment, though, another someone came into the supply room and yelled out loud.

"Listen to me! Director Johnson just announced that he will leave the B.S.A.A."

Loud sounds of exultation and relief filled the room. Narrowing her eyes, Claire lifted a finger.

"I was wrong. I could still be happier!" She laughed softly as her hands fisted in Piers' collar again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"The director says he will be joining the D.S.O instead."

And the loud cheering was drowned by one single cry of agony coming from a certain agent.

"No!"

They spent the rest of the night celebrating and drinking together, and Piers knew that this was the best Christmas party ever.

" _Piers Nivans to HQ."_

At least, this was how it should have been.

_"I need backup."_

Because instead of pulling a cork with Claire and the team, that night before Christmas Eve, or its equivalent time in Eastern Europe, he was pulling his Captain out of the City Hall in Edonia.

_"We got attacked in the City Hall."_

And what had started as an easy intervention in a Civil War that was almost won, had become a terrible nightmare.

_"We lost four soldiers KIA. Infected. Virus unknown."_

He wasn't even sure what he was reporting about anymore, as he was busy focusing on the four huge B.O.W.s that had cracked out of the cocoon their teammates had turned into after being targeted by the needle bomb Ada Wong had thrown. His hands tossed away his own rifle and grabbed Chris' instead.

He wouldn't need it that soon again.

_"Captain Redfield is… "_

Unconscious? Dead? He couldn't really tell anymore after Chris' eyes had fallen shut and all the blood that was leaking from his head. The grunting of the huge B.O.W.s that were approaching didn't even let him check his vital signs.

" _Injured."_

He had indeed hoped for a more peaceful Christmas that year.

_"Over."_


	14. Hope

That energy drink they had in Western-Edonia—if they really had something like a West there—was some pretty good shit. It was the color of whisky vomit and it tasted like mashed insects mixed with toxic berries. It was supposed to contain ten percent of the essence of  _manliness_  that could possibly be found in an adult moose and it was served in a poorly designed aluminum can with red letters reading  _BlueBull_  on a black background, which, he believed, made no sense at all. Neither did the fact that it was addictive, given the awful, stinky smell of it, but if there was anything good about the whole situation, it was that Edonian energy drink—and maybe the fact that he was reuniting with Claire a little earlier than expected.

Piers tossed the empty can onto the ground and kicked it, letting it jingle joyfully over the frozen streets of Edonia as his view turned to the horizon, where the lights of war contorned the skyline of that cold December morning. They had always expected the Edonian monarch to be the first one in using bioweapons against the rebels, as they had learned about his connection to previous Umbrella partners, but in the end, it had been the guerrillas who had helped themselves to a bunch of virus supplies and had taken over the Civil War and the whole country. The monarch was suspected to be dead. Delta had found his residence vandalized and his most trusted advisors hung from a bridge when they'd arrived in the capital, and now the B.S.A.A. 's mission was to clean the zone of the infected rebels, leaving the country without people to run it. So far, Edonia's destiny was unclear.

The sound of gunfire and bombs was clearly audible from the backyard of the hospital where he stood, but there wasn't much about it that still bothered him. The B.O.W.s were Bravo's job alone now. His was to watch over Chris, and it was currently as hard as babysitting a goldfish in an aquarium, as his Captain was in a vegetative, comatose state after hitting his head in the Edonian City Hall.

At least, he was alive. Alive meaning breathing, with a pulse. Alive meaning  _human_. And it was some important advantage he had over the rest of Alpha team, as Ben, Carl, Andy and even the newbie Finn had all become victims of the mysterious Asian woman named Ada Wong, who had infected them traitorously after leading them into the deepest corners of the City Hall. Piers could still recall the screams of agony of his teammates when their skin had begun to flame up and they'd melted into that sort of shell, a cocoon they had broken up shortly after, reliving as those huge B.O.W.s and nearly killing their Captain. Among all the chaos, Piers couldn't stop thinking about Simon and how lucky he had been when the B.O.W. in Siberia had broken his foot and made him useless to the force. It might have saved his life.

And now Claire was coming, picked up by Jill Valentine on her way to the hospital, and interrupting her rescue mission in the Terra Save tents nearby so she could see what had happened. It was all she could do about the situation, admittedly; come and  _see_ how her brother was happily vegetating.

" _Neevans_ ," he heard the voice of a young woman behind him and turned to face the petite nurse who had been with Chris ever since they'd arrived at the hospital.

Now that he saw her in the shine of the rising daylight, he recognized how pale she really was due to all the hours she had spent taking care of the injured.

"Hello," he replied with a smirk and nodded at her.

The young woman, who couldn't be older than twenty-three, was gasping heavily and put him on alert, as there was only one reason for her to come  _running_ from Chris' room to the backyard, and Piers let panic take control over his features. The girl grabbed his left forearm and began to toss all kinds of Russian words of urgency at him. Piers stopped when he caught a term he had learned in the classes with the cute Edonian teacher back in New York.

" _Sbezhat_?" he whispered quietly as he felt the knot in his throat grow thicker. "Run off? Do you mean he's…?"

He let go of the girl and sprinted back into the building, down the corridor and into Chris' room, where the most optimistic part of himself still hoped to find his Captain, no matter if awake or still unconscious. But when he finally reached the door and swung himself into the room, his eyes were rewarded with the second worst scenario possible after finding him dead.

"Fuck!"

The bed stood empty in the middle of the room, the white covers had been rolled into a careless ball and tossed to the ground. Tubes had been ripped off, leaving tiny droplets of blood and a lake of slimy bile on the tiled floor. The Delta team soldier that was supposed to have watched over him in Piers' absence, was lying on the floor, curled into a ball and still holding his aching abdomen. Chris had done a fine job freeing himself from the guard and the machines, leaving the latter beeping alarmingly halfway between the bed and the open window, through which the wind was currently blowing cold flakes of white into the room. It was snowing again.

Piers felt his jaw clench at the picture of the empty room and he quickly dashed to the window, balancing his upper body out into the cold to see if he caught sight of his Captain. He hissed under his breath and cursed the genius who had assigned them a room with windows on the ground floor. Something like that wouldn't have happened back home.

The snow had just begun to fall, but he could clearly see the bare footprints in the fresh layer of white on the street in front of the window, and without hesitating longer, he stomped his right boot onto the frame and climbed out into the cold, squatting down when he landed to propel himself into the air and follow the footsteps through the streets.

He barely had time to wonder what was happening and why Chris had suddenly decided that the warm hospital bed wasn't the right place to stay, engaged in the wild chase after the ghost of a man he had turned into. Crowded with death and infection, the lanes of Edonia soon made it hard to follow the trace after the lost Captain, even though still offering the scandalized shouts of women here and there catching sight of a half-naked man.

"Chris!" he shouted whenever he caught the tiniest of signs of his Captain— no matter where it came from— and momentarily gained some space to keep running when the crowd dissipated. Following this method, it didn't take him long to reach the city limits, where the footprints disappeared when they merged with the tracks of tires, probably from a truck or similar. No trace of the vehicle, though, nor of his Captain.

"Goddammit!" Piers yelled at the tracks. "Fuck! Chris!"

Right or left? It took him only a second to decide what direction to take and he turned right, resuming his hopeless run after the vanished Captain. He needed to find him, make sure he was alright, lungs burning with cold air and the fear that someone with evil intentions had taken the hero that was Chris Redfield.

The absurdity of the thought made him laugh. He knew that Chris, no matter how weak, no matter how injured and broken, would never give in fightlessly to hands that were trying to harm him. The B.S.A.A. soldier they had found crawling over the hospital floor would surely agree with him.

Piers didn't know why—wasn't  _sure_  why— but he knew that Chris was running. From him? From the B.S.A.A.? From the judging eyes of Jill Valentine, who probably believed she could have done a better job leading Alpha team? He didn't know what mindless reasoning was pushing his Captain into running from everything, but did it really matter?

His knees felt like fire and the thornish pain he felt in his lungs pulled him to a slower pace, making him stumble and eventually drop to the ground, with his anxious fingers instantly raking through the humid dirt in exasperation as his mind tried to assimilate what had happened. He had lost him. He had lost his Captain in the wide land of Edonia, and now he had to return to the city and bring Claire the news, tell his lovely redhead that her brother was gone because he had stopped paying attention for one moment, believing that all remaining danger lay in the injury on Chris' head.

Piers' glare turned down to his shaking, filthy hands, and the thumbs that seemed to pulsate with every one of his sickeningly fast heartbeats.

How was he going to tell Claire that he had failed her?

And what would he tell Chris if he ever found him?

* * *

The previous days had been hell. A nightmare like Raccoon City, only bigger; like Antarctica, but longer; like Sushestvovanie Island; only with more of her loved ones involved. Not more than a week had passed since Claire had wished her brother and his unit good luck on their mission in Edonia and briefly kissed Piers goodbye— hidden from all eyes. Only seven days and she had already gotten the worst of news.

Okay, from her personal point of view, it wasn't  _that_  bad. Piers and Chris, the two men she loved the most in the world, had survived, being the last men of Alpha Team, while the rest of soldiers had been killed in action. Now they were in the hospital, with Chris fighting against the coma caused by quite a severe head injury, but Claire had no doubt that her brother conserved enough of the pride and stubbornness he'd grown over the years to make it through. The Edonian Civil War had been a biological tragedy that had destroyed the whole country; she had seen it closely, too, in the faces of the survivors; but only thing that mattered to her now was that Piers and her brother were  _safe_ , and that she could return to her job in the tents of Terra Save outside of the city limits, without constantly worrying about her family.

Now, there was only one person left to worry about.

"It's here," Jill exclaimed as they walked straight towards the front desk. Claire was, in the meantime, looking unsuccessfully for the face of Piers.

" _Priviet_ ," she heard Jill speaking with the young receptionist. "Chris Redfield?

When Claire finally gave up her quick search and turned to the front desk, the two girls behind it were exchanging nervous glances, their red lips pressed together into uncomfortable pouts. It was that moment when she knew something was wrong.

"What happened?" She demanded, without caring if the receptionists understood her or not, and hit her palms onto the counter. Jill softly stroked over her shoulder.

"Keep calm," she said, and Claire obeyed, taking the deep breath that was supposed to keep her on her feet.

"Officer Valentine, Miss Redfield."

Both women turned when they heard the voice of Piers, who kept the façade of the distant friendship with Claire in such a convincing way that it almost cut her wish to embrace him. He looked so tired, that destructive aura of war pulling on his inexhaustible spirit of courage.

"Lieutenant Nivans." Jill greeted him, walking across the hall and towards him. "Is everything alright?"

He felt exhausted after the desperate sprint through the Edonian wilderness, but seeing Claire and Jill Valentine walk into the hospital when he was just approaching the decayed building himself had made his blood rush violently through his body again. A part of him wanted to run away just like Chris had just done, but thinking about how Claire would find out that her brother had disappeared from the hospital had pushed him into walking after the two women. They both deserved to hear the truth from him instead of the strangers in the hospital to whom Chris was a mere number in this state of emergency that was currently shaking the country. Also, maybe he could even make it easier for them, if he was just convincing enough when he promised that he'd find him. Even though not even he himself believed it.

And now he was staring at the two women, with their looks set on his face and the premonition that there was no good news about Chris' well-being, and he felt his eyes roll down to avoid their stare and the humid reflection of tears in Claire's blue eyes.

"The Captain, he…" He swallowed, wondering if there was any way it would make it easier. "He ran away."

When he turned his head up to face the women, he saw the confusion written all over their features and, while Jill knew how to keep a serious demeanor through it all, Claire began to shake her head in agitation.

"What does that mean?" she asked after blinking once, very slowly. "Where did he run to?"

There was some kind of hope in her voice when she asked for the chance that he knew where Chris was to be found, and the positivism in it just made the guilt in him rise. He clenched his jaw and shook his head once.

"I don't know," he admitted and feared the reaction.

Jill Valentine's eyes narrowed as she pressed her lips together, once more showing the excellent self-control and composure, which highlighted the reaction coming from the red-haired woman next to her. Claire blew out a dark laugh and combed through her hair, her hands shaking with incomprehension as she took a step back and forth again.

"You don't know?" She yelled, eyes accusingly set on him as she laughed sarcastically. "And why the fuck don't you know where he is? Wasn't he supposed to be in a coma just now?"

Anyone who knew that they were pretending not to be as close as they actually were could have been impressed by Claire's acting qualities, as her outburst turned so loud that she had all the available attention of the people around the front desk drawn to her. Piers, however, knew her too well not to see the true emotions behind her doing.

She was blaming him for her brother's condition, which was absolutely fine, he thought, as he himself agreed with it, but the fact that she used their secret to openly yell at him caught him by surprise. Had it been any other woman in the world, he would have known how to react, but being Claire the one who was aiming her rage at him so inconsiderately, he couldn't help but feel exposed and tiny.

He was glad Jill Valentine was there. The blonde softly grabbed Claire's forearm and turned the redhead to face her.

"Calm down, Claire," she said with a motherly tone. "You can be sure Piers did everything in his power to help Chris."

Her eyes waved to Piers, in a soothing gaze of complicity as she talked to Claire.

"You must be tired. Why don't you grab yourself a coffee at the machine in the waiting room over there and try to rest while I take care of everything?"

The redhead's eyes jumped from her friend to Piers and back and she seemed to understand how close she had been to an infantile outburst. After a deep breath and a nod, she turned away and followed Jill's advice, leaving them standing alone at the front desk. Before she disappeared into the waiting room, though, her blue eyes searched for Piers' to exchange one last sad glance with him.

"You must excuse her," Jill said and drew his attention back to her. "She's usually not so irritable, but she just received the news that a close friend of hers went M.I.A. here in Edonia." She sighed and shrugged sadly. "And now this."

Piers assimilated the words with attention. He would have gladly asked Valentine which of Claire's friends had met such a tragic fate, but knowing that she was currently shaken with justified concern for different people, including her brother, surely explained Claire's harsh reaction, and he began to understand. Sadly, there were things he needed to take care of urgently, because where he really wanted to be was next to Claire, to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright.

"Can you tell me how this exactly happened?"

He responded to Jill's petition with a nod.

He'd pay Claire a visit a little later.

* * *

The general agitation in the hospital and on the streets of Edonia and the persisting sound of bomb fall coming from the distance had cleaned the waiting room of the hospital. Nobody wanted to be waiting in such a critical situation, Claire assumed, and focused on the only people that shared the rather hard chairs in the area with her. Two more people, a couple of about fifty, tightly clinging to each other as they shared a moment of silence between the heartbreaking sobs that burst out every now and then. She wasn't sure what had happened to them— a major disaster, probably, given their presence in the war zone— but Claire would have liked to tell them that everything was going to be alright, that, speaking from experience, she knew that there was always a solution, but she didn't have any hope left to share with others. So, when the woman began to shed another tear, announcing the next desperate wave of cries, Claire's look dropped to the paper cup full of coffee in her hands, meeting her own reflection in the surface of the already cold drink.

She was ashamed of herself, having let Piers— out of all the people in the world— become the target of all her frustration, when she knew better than anyone that he would have moved the world to keep Chris and herself safe. This wasn't his fault, she knew, and she hoped that he would forgive her the loss of control from before. Apparently, there was indeed some hope left inside of her.

With that thought on her mind, Claire turned her face to the open door of the waiting room, soon being rewarded with the picture of Piers walking in. After shortly sticking on the couple in the other corner of the room, his eyes turned to Claire, and he tried a soft smile to break the ice and as a silent ask for permission to approach her. She returned the gesture gladly and prepared for getting up, feeling a little more confident with every step he took towards her. Piers gave her a sign, asking her to remain seated, and knelt down in front of her when he reached her.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged slightly and took his hand in hers, rubbing it softly between her palms.

"I'm okay," she said and began to shake her head as it dropped into a gesture full of shame. "I'm so sorry Piers. I shouldn't have…"

He laughed softly and rubbed over her red hair, swinging forward until his lips met her crown.

"Don't apologize, Claire," he said in a soft voice. "You are completely right. Had I been there…"

Had he been there to keep Chris from running, he might have gotten the same majestic punch in the stomach poor Richard from Delta had reported to have received from the brave Captain Redfield. Jill and he had analyzed the hospital room and had concluded that two men could have had a chance to hold him down, but that it would have taken a whole bunch of people to effectively dominate the man who had once beaten Albert Wesker and all the viruses in his body. When Chris Redfield was serene and sober, he didn't seem to be dangerous to one of his kind in any way, but something about the hospital surroundings, the meds or the pain he was suffering from must have triggered a rabidity inside him that had made him flee the building and attack anyone who was trying to stop him. According to Valentine and her experience, there was no point in running after him, because he had probably long reached a different zone of the country or even abroad. Jill, too, doubted that Chris had become the victim of a crime, and that he was more likely to become the one who hijacked a truck than the one being kidnapped, so they didn't need to worry about his well-being. The next step was to start an intense search for him. She herself would take care of recruiting the members that would be part of the B.S.A.A. brigade she'd send after her long-time partner. Piers had instantly volunteered to be with them whenever his job allowed him to. Luckily, the upcoming tasks the B.S.A.A. and Chris' Alpha Team —now  _his_ Alpha team—had included the cleaning of the zone.

"Had you been there he would have run off anyway," Claire whispered with a smirk. "I'm not sure what's gotten into him, but I know my brother. If he believed he had any reason not to be here, there was no way to stop him. Trust me. I once saw him punch a car to make it start again. And it worked."

Piers laughed softly, happy that the expected tension between them two had vanished, and that Claire didn't really put the blame on him for Chris' actions.

"I heard that a friend of yours went missing here in Edonia," he said as his free hand dropped to her knee. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Claire sighed, her fingers wrapping tighter around his hand in search for support.

"Sherry," she whispered and licked her lips. "The government lost any contact with her and the guy she was escorting." An incredulous head shake followed as she blew out a tired breath. "Leon is gonna kill me when he finds out."

Not that it actually mattered anymore what Leon did or thought.

Piers frowned at the revelation, as he had just recently learned how to put a face to the name of Claire's young friend.

"Sherry Birkin. We met her and that…" he stopped, clenching his jaw ravishingly. "...that man she was escorting in the city," he said, deciding that it was best not to mention their brief, unfriendly interaction with the mercenary. "They took one of our jets to leave the country."

Claire's gaze hadn't shown the slightest hint of hope when he'd told her about the happenings, as Jill Valentine had already given her a complete update on the B.S.A.A.'s part in the story.

"Jill said that they found pieces of the planes and the burnt corpses of the B.S.A.A. soldiers that were with them." She sighed again. "But no trace of Sherry and that man."

She leaned back in the seat and let her head drop against the wall behind her, eyes falling closed, and Piers visualized all the weight Claire was carrying on her shoulders.

"It makes me think that she's alive," she whispered sadly. "But it doesn't look good, to be honest."

Piers watched her through narrowed eyes, wishing so desperately that he could help her overcome all that concern. Shifting his weight onto his left knee, he pushed himself up and climbed into the chair next to the redhead.

"I've seen her fight, Claire," he said with resolution, knowing that Claire had had enough hesitance,  _maybe_  and  _perhaps_  in the past. "That girl is tough. I'm sure she's still out there."

She forced her eyes open and rolled her head to the soldier, watching closely how deep the happenings of the previous days had carved deep lines into his beautiful features. It looked good on him, she thought as she reached for his chin and squeezed it softly, making him smirk in return.

"Yes, she is," Claire said and laughed, frowning in amusement. "I still see her like the little girl I found in Raccoon City, when she's…"

She hesitated, a hint of delight on her lips as Piers lifted his eyebrows in curiosity.

"What?" He asked and smirked until Claire giggled.

"She's like a year older than you."

After a shared moment of hesitance, wondering if they were allowed to laugh in such a depressing environment and with so many of their people either dead or fighting for their lives, the couple decided to stop caring and celebrate that they were alive and  _together_. Their laughter echoed through the room in unison, even catching the attention of the older couple on the opposite side, who just stared at them in awe. When they caught their breath again Piers reached for Claire's hand once more and held it.

"I heard that they want you to be in charge of Alpha team now," she whispered and ripped a frown from his beautiful face.

"Or whatever is left of it," he rolled his eyes into her direction before brushing his dry lips with the pad of his thumb. "I mean, if I'm the last man standing, am I now the Captain of myself?"

Claire entwined her fingers with his, rewarding him with the lovely sound of her shy, restrained laughter once more as she softly poked him in the side.

"I guess they'll promote people from Bravo team."

He shrugged, taking a cold breath and leaning back in the chair.

"Yes, maybe," he said and briefly shut his eyes. "I will keep searching for him, Claire."

The redhead turned her face to the right and looked at him in hesitation, narrowed eyes checking if he was serious.

"But… Alpha Team…"

Piers shrugged.

"We're supposed to stay here in Edonia anyway," he said and gave Claire a soft smirk. "I won't stop until I find him, Claire."

She held his hand so tightly in hers that she felt they'd melt together anytime, and she didn't even care. A part of her wished that she could just let go of all the terror, losses and deaths, forget about all those damn responsibilities and just be what they were to each other; two people who had found their soulmate in that chaos that was their world.

"Okay," she responded and received a short nod from Piers.

"And when I do," he whispered, turning in the chair to face her, his hand soon entangled in her hair. "We will tell him everything."

The tears shot so quickly into her eyes that she had barely time to blink before they started to roll down her cheeks, her free hand wiping off the wet signs of her strength and weakness. Once she'd sobbed once or twice, her head dropped.

"I'm sorry, Piers," she mumbled weakly. "Had I been braver, he would have known about us much earlier."

And the fear that it was too late for confessions now numbed her immensely, the question about the  _what if_  lying on the tip of her tongue. Piers, feeling her unease, looped his arm tighter around her and gently cupped her chin.

"I'll find him, Claire. I promise I will find him."

Letting the last of sobs announce her words, Claire looked at him and ran her fingers through his hair.

"I know you will."

And with those words, she pressed her lips onto his, gently savoring a hint of sour and sweet on them, as her eyes fell closed her hands fisted in his jacket.

"Piers Nivans," she said between kisses. "You might be the best thing that ever happened to me."


End file.
